Getting better is my goal.

Recently I was listening to a Wired to Hunt podcast, good stuff by the way, and one of the gentlemen said something that really felt familiar to me. I believe it was Andy on episode 223 that mentioned feeling anxiety about becoming stagnant in his hunting skills. It felt familiar because I have those same types of feelings about my skills as well. I think there is a large majority of sportspersons in the field that feel this way. A feeling that what you did last year is not going to be enough to get you through this year. A feeling that this year will require a sharper skill set, or an updated skill set, or even a brand new skill set altogether.

For some people, it's the newest bow, a new ozone generator, attractants, and calls. These products are advertised by those in the industry that have proven to be entertaining when they get in front of a camera and so easily harvest a giant elk or a Booner buck. If you've ever spent a pretty penny on some of this gear, you'll have found out that it, by itself, cannot make you a better hunter. Maybe they've increased your odds... maybe not. I think the best investment is in knowledge. Scouting can tell you way more about your area than any expert on a show or podcast. What you CAN learn from those experts are things to look for while you're out there. Those professionals do have the advantage of time spent in the woods, swamps, and hills. They can tell you what they've seen and how they've found deer. These things combined with what I know of my own hunting areas are how I've been successful in the past. 

The definition of success is different for everyone. Here is mine: A  hunt is successful if I made it home safe, knowing more about how to harvest deer than I did before I left. Sure, it seems a bit high browed, but unless you are depending on a harvest to eat then what can be more permanent than that experience being used as a building block for more enjoyable trips in the future? Especially since that experience can't be lost or taken away.

Combine this with taking someone who is new to the hobby, like a child, grandchild, friend, or neighbor. You actually have the opportunity to experience all those firsts again and again. Hunter numbers are dwindling for many reasons. Recruiting the next generation alone can't replace all those that are leaving. Inviting friends that haven't grown up in the culture to go on an evening observation sit could be all it takes to get them hooked. You're basically investing in a future hunting buddy that knows exactly how you think things should be done. This is the same as teaching your kids, except the adults you bring in can pay for their own equipment. Teaching someone about the culture and skills needed to be a moral conservationist is one of the best ways to review and cement your own knowledge about the wonderful game species in our state.

I end up reading books, watching videos, and listening to podcasts every season, looking for the next thing to try or to get better with, trying to quell that anticipatory gut feeling. It will never end because there will always be some way to improve either yourself, your surroundings, or the next generation. This season will be my best season because I've already learned new things.

What new thing will you learn to make this your best season yet?

Remember to pay attention, mind your manners, and go home safe.

Deciding Where To Hunt

How often does someone need to find a place to hunt that is different from last year? So far I have been pretty blessed to have access to a private property that holds a good number of deer. I love it out there, but since it's not mine, it's not guaranteed to be available forever. Also, it's shared between several other people, some of whom are serious hunters who go out and clear brush, fix stands, fill feeders etc. While others show up the evening before opening day, smelling of cologne and corn dogs, to walk the property to find the "best spot" regardless of having done any work or not. You won't know about this latecomer until opening morning when you see him dragging his son to the stand you spent a whole weekend preparing. I would like to save myself a bit of frustration this year by starting bow season on public property.

Strangers coming in at all hours, from all directions, with all kinds of smells, is an absolute SURE THING when on public lands. I happen to think that going in with this in mind can be used to your advantage. Not everyone will be willing to put work in finding crossing routes, bedding areas, watering holes, or feed plots. You can always better your odds by outworking everyone else, which I will try to do this year. In order to put myself in the best position to see any deer, let alone the possibility of a trophy buck or a fat doe, I will put my focus will be on scouting and arrival times.

We are pretty fortunate in Oklahoma to have thousands of acres set aside for public hunting. It also increases the chances of a decent WMA or the like being a relatively short drive from your house. I have a few places like Skiatook Lake, Oologah Lake, Candy Creek, and Deep Fork Refuge all under an hour away. Narrowing it down to exactly where you hang a stand or even ground hunt is the toughest part. I'm going to start with 3 spots I think are good deer habitat, that also seems difficult to access for the normal weekend blaze orange warrior. I'm looking for creek crossings, steep hills, and long hikes. I'm willing to get in further and haul out that fat doe or mature buck the whole way back with a sweaty and exhausted grin on my face.

These hikes mean I won't be close to the vehicle for any forgotten gear or a nap, which means extra preparation ahead of time. Not only will I need my hunting stand, sticks, harness and possibly waders, but I intend to bring a small provision of emergency supplies as well. I would rather pack the extra weight back and forth without ever needing it than suffer a nasty cut without a first aid kit.

After I find my hard to reach areas on maps, I need to scout. While scouting I'm looking for Heavily used trails with deer tracks that go to and from bedding, food, and/or water. Finding and following these trails to their destinations is the most time intensive part of scouting. Knowing where they lead can tell me what times of the day or night they are most likely to be used. Signs like scrapes, rubs, and licking branches just tell me that bucks have been there, probably overnight. My money is on catching them transitioning between areas in the evenings. This also means tracking and then hauling my harvest by starlight.

The whole ordeal sounds tough, but I'm tough. And when I tell my hunting story to the guys, I'll be sure to let them know it was uphill both ways. With this being my first season, I'm expecting a few setbacks and lessons learned, but I will count eyes on deer as a win. Are you excited? Cause I'm excited.

Remember to pay attention, mind your manners, and go home safe.

Night Fishing the Bluffs of Bull Shoals Lake

As kids, my brother and I often got to spend a week with our grandparents every summer. Over the years there were many things that we always ended up doing on those visits such as feeding the horses, checking on the cabin over at Peel, picking blackberries, and shooting a single aluminum arrow into a large chunk of Styrofoam with our beat up hand-me-down bows. But one of the most memorable things we tried to every year was to go night fishing.

Night fishing with Grandma and Grandpa was always wrapped up in a mix of feelings. From the excited anticipation of the chance to catch fish to the outright worry you might earn a "pop-knot" for stomping around the boat one too many times. I'm sure my brother would have rather not gone, but he soldiered on anyway. Grandpa was very specific about how tasks were to be completed. And there were many tasks to be completed before the actual fishing could start. Communication was key. A scowl meant you were doing it wrong. A glare meant you were flat out doing it wrong. Silence meant it was good enough. A crooked grin meant he was satisfied. If you got a half wink, well then you did exceptionally "OK". If words were used, you can be sure he was about to just come to do it his self. Pop-knots may or may not have been delivered in those cases.

After getting packed up, headed over to Bull Shoals, and the old pontoon boat loaded, it was off to our annual fishing spot. You had plenty of time for sightseeing on the way to the bluff where we would eventually tie off on the decades-old standing timber. The motor wasn't very large, so we didn't go very fast. Grandpa was never much for getting anywhere in a hurry, and Grandma preferred to proceed at a leisurely pace to make sure she didn't end up overboard. Once at our spot, we had to get through the most difficult task of the evening; tying off.

You wouldn't think tying off on some trees could be the most difficult part of the evening. Technically it wasn't, The difficulty came when you had to tie off just the exact way Grandpa wanted it. I know he had his reasons such as making sure we were secure so that we wouldn't drift or get loose while riding out the wakes of passing boats. Or worse yet, get tangled up between the timber and the looming rocky bluffs Bull Shoals is famous for. Back the boat toward one tree, tie off. Idle forward to another tree, tie off. Make sure the appropriate slack was given to maneuver between the two until reaching the correct distance between them, then take up the slack and secure the lines. Done.

After our gourmet dinner of deviled ham sandwiches, cold cucumber spears, and an icy Coke, we could bait the hooks with minnows and get our lines in the water. We were always cautioned to make sure we were keeping our bait at a deep enough level. I wasn't ever quite sure why until a long nose gar snatched my bait. If you've ever had the pleasure of fighting a gar on your line, you know that they go sideways when they have a bite. That's fine when you're bank fishing, but when you're on a boat with a dozen lines in the water you are going to be untangling lines to the random bursts of curses from a creative man who served in the military.

Barring that happening, the night was mostly quiet. After the sun set behind the hills, Grandma would help Grandpa get the Coleman lanterns pumped and primed so they could hang off the side of the boat to attract the bugs. Hanging the lanterns provided some ambient light for us, but as Grandpa explained, it also created a local and artificial ecosystem to bring crappie from the surrounding areas. Water lapping on the boat and the bluffs would be the only thing you could hear besides the faint hiss of the lanterns almost all night. At least until someone would get a bite. My brother and I would be completely beside ourselves with excitement any time something happened, it wasn't very entertaining otherwise. Grandma would have to shush us to avoid "spooking the fish" but she always did so with a wink, knowing how bored we could be. If there were no bites, we would have to settle for watching the stars or the massive ball of thousands of baitfish swimming around the boat to eat the sinking remains of bugs that got too close to the hot glass on the lanterns.

It was a yearly competition between us boys to see who could stay up the longest. The loser was generally the one who ended up at the back of the boat, under the Bimini cover to keep from being damp with evening dew. There was no prize for winning, other than viewing the sunrise. Seeing daylight meant the trip was almost at an end, except for the part I looked forward to the most: swimming.

On the way back to the dock, Grandma and Grandpa would stop at this little island and fix breakfast over an old camp stove. Not even brisk morning air and chilly water typical of that part of Bull Shoals would prevent us from getting in the water and splashing around while bacon and eggs were frying just beyond the reach of the waves. I know this pit stop on the way back was more for us kids than it was for them to make breakfast. Grandpa would occasionally wade out and throw us around while Grandma tended the skillet. We enjoyed it while we could, considering we still had a long drive home, and plenty of fish to clean after we unloaded the boat.

Looking back, I suppose getting through the tough parts at the beginning of the evening was as much a part of the ritual as the nap we all took when getting home. Nothing we had or did was fancy, but I loved every minute of those trips. I'm glad that I had the chance to spend that time with my grandparents, and that they were able to pass knowledge down to me that I can further pass down to my kids and grandkids someday.

Do your best to make good memories with those you love while you can.

As always, remember to mind your manners, pay attention, and go home safe.

Results Not Typical, Or Are They?

I worked harder on preseason prep than I had in any prior season. I just knew it was going to be a great year. Lot's of studying maps, wind directions, trail and lane prep, checking cams, everything. Which is why I think this story is so tied up with emotions. 

While hunting a weekend morning in the middle of rifle season, sitting in my brother-in-law's super ugly plywood ground blind, I was contemplating giving in to that warm lull the sunrise brings when you're out of the wind. Scanning the same view over and over again, I can't believe I almost missed the pair of doe that slowly worked their way to the tree line in which I was located. They had to have come from the creek down the sloping hill from me, but the high grass hid them very well. Two gorgeous and fat doe, out for a morning stroll, stopped right at the tree line instead of continuing into security. This was absolutely perfect luck. They were to my left, and I could still see them out of the very edge of the front window opening, just 20 yards away. 

A very stubby maple tree with a mass of stubborn brown leaves masked the movement of me getting my rifle ready. In my head, I thought to lay the barrel on the edge of the window for a solid rest, and take my time with placing a shot on the bigger of the deer. Except, in order to even see the doe, I had to adjust the rifle back just far enough that it wouldn't be able to set on the window edge. On the fly, I adjusted my form to support the for-end with my hand, while my elbow rested on a knee being raised on a tiptoe. I know this is an expert level skill set, but try to follow me anyways.

This had all happened in a matter of seconds, but it felt longer.

After readjusting, I re-sighted the bigger doe. As close as she was, slightly quartered away, I aimed a bit lower than I normally do in order to preserve the opposite shoulder. I inhaled slowly, exhaled half a breath, and squeezed the trigger until the shot surprised me. BOOM! I look up and see two tails bouncing up the hill, the crashing sound of hooves on leaves and sticks echoing through the holler...

I was confused at why I saw two tails instead of one, and then when I saw what you see in the picture below. A whole range of emotions flooded my mind and my heart and sank them both.

In my hurry to readjust, I lowered the barrel too much. I missed that doe because I didn't take into account aiming lower after pulling the barrel off the window ledge. The plywood must have sent the bullet off course, or outright splintered the projectile. How Could I have been so negligent? I thought about going home right then. I text my wife and my dad, letting them both know that I screwed up. All of that preparation and I missed...

I got out of the blind and walked to where the doe had stood those minutes before. I could see the path they took up from the creek and the small clearing in the tree line they used to continue over the hill. After some mental negotiations, I decided to follow the trail uphill. Maybe I could turn this into a learning experience and find where they crossed in the power line clearing at the top of the hill.

Just inside the transition from a grassy field to thick trees, I saw it. A bright beautiful splotch of blood. The elation and excitement I felt propelled me uphill. This was the first time I've had to track a deer and it was so easy on the layer of fallen leaves. Between the renewed adrenaline and shortness of breath from being a fat man hurtling over typical forest ground cover with all my gear on my back, I mistook one dead tree and two piles of rocks for the deer. Three times I had to go back to retrace the blood trail before I saw her. 

Told you she was gorgeous. 

After making sure she was deceased, I tied my rope to her rear legs and got to hauling. Even with the level of excitement running through me, I was still out of shape. It took me longer to pull her out than I truely care to admit. She was worth it, the fattest deer I've ever seen. When I get her to the road, and field dressed her I noticed my shot placement had been a perfect heart shot. 

I am very glad I decided to continue up the hill instead of giving up and packing it in. Sometimes I just need a reminder that hunting, and being a responsible sportsman isn't about the results. It's about the experience. It's about finding your place in a wide wild world that doesn't need you in it, but needs you to take care of it.

Remember to pay attention, mind your manners, and go home safe.

-Jeremy

Catching Bait

I'm a firm believer that live bait has a few certain qualities that you just can't duplicate with jigs or plastics, not even with scent additive. There is whole a bait industry that caters to those with the forethought to grab bait on the way to your spot. I'm sure you've seen them on the way to a lake, they are called bait shops, and you can buy live bait for a decent price. But what if I am on an impromptu trip, say on lunch break or it's super early and the family is still asleep? Well, I can just catch the bait I need for free.

The easiest bait to find and gather are worms. Under any pile of composting leaves, pine needles, and grass, I turn it over to just below the surface of the dirt. This is where I find some cranky and feisty worms, crickets, and grubs. I always bring a container with a lid, that has a few air holes on top, some of the composted dirt in the container to keep the critters happy.



During the summer, crickets and grasshoppers are plentiful. Crickets hide around woodpiles and on the ground in the tall grass. Grasshoppers like to hang out on the tops of grass and bushes. A small butterfly net can help gather these jumpers in big numbers within a few minutes. I make a point to be quick and accurate with my swipes, especially since I want the bugs to stay alive and healthy.



A more passive way of catching bait is the minnow trap. Although they make a few variations and some people have neat DIY designs, they all work about the same in my opinion and rely heavily on the type of bait you use. Some people use store bought bait or chunks of bread, but I like using bits of crappie cakes. They are made to gather bait fish with scent and sight attractors. I just bait the trap and let it soak. This could take some time to get enough, so if I don't have the patience or the time, I move on to the next method, cast nets.


Cast nets, almost every fisher has at least seen one of these bad boys in action. In the right hands, over the right spot, a skilled thrower can net a bucket full of shad with a single toss. If you aren't skilled, you can get lucky in the right spot. If you're in the wrong spot, the only thing you will catch is a sore shoulder and a wet shirt. Techniques are as varied as the fisher and as numerous as the different brand/size/material of net, so I stick with what I know best. I use a South Bend 4ft diameter net, with 3/8" monofil mesh, and a basic "hold the coiled rope and wad of net in one hand, and a couple weights in the other, and sling away" approach that isn't what I would describe as skilled. I throw a few times to get a dozen or so decent shad and toss them in an aerated bucket or bait tank.

I should note that summertime is prime time for critters such as snakes and spiders. Both of which have some downright mean versions that would love to put an early end to my fishing trip if I get too close. So, if you attempt any of these methods for catching your own bait, please be aware of those meaner creatures chasing the same bugs.

Remember to pay attention, mind your manners, and go home safe.