Shrek!!!

Hunting season always has its share of ups and downs, successes and failures, euphoria and heartbreak. Over the past 15 years or so, I have been on both sides of the fence. Every major moment (of both good and bad), I can replay back in my mind like it was yesterday. I can tell you about all the mistakes I have made on every one of my missed opportunities. By no means am I going to tell you that I am a great bush man, outdoors man, mighty hunter, or anything else that resembles that (Side note: have you seen "Yukon Men"? This is the worst show I have ever seen. Complete garbage). Making mistakes is all a part of being in the outdoors and the learning process that goes along with it, and I'm not afraid to share... It's a part of the game.

I have been deer hunting the same section of land for as long as I can remember.  For the past 10 years, I have mostly stuck to one small area. It's a small meadow created by an old blown out beaver pond. I was generally up in my tree stand overlooking the meadow, but last year I decided to build a ground blind because I was sick of freezing my tale off in the tree (I know, I sound soft). I also figured that moving 15 ft. down to the ground wouldn't hurt my line of sight all that much. After constructing my magnificent blind made of burlap and bits and pieces of wood leftover in my dad's shop (it's probably the most homely looking ground blind ever constructed), I moved it into the meadow. I set it close to the area where most of the deer come out. The rest of the season I sat in my new blind, but out of the 30 some odd hours I spent in that blind, I only saw a handful of deer. At the end of the year I tucked my blind under a tree and left it for the winter.

This fall when I went to pull my ground blind out from its wintering spot, I noticed an unpleasant surprise. Apparently squirrels like burlap, because one had chewed it all off of the roof, one side of my blind and was starting new holes on the other sections. After the first day of sitting a deer winded me close to dark so I decided to move the blind back 100 yards and in the next few days it made a substantial difference. Looking back at it, I was a little eager to get really close to the action but what I had done was get a little too close, and backing it up made all the difference in the world. Luckily for me it was a fixable mistake.

Shrek... Shrek is what I named the deer that has visited my trail cam at this spot for the past month. I named him Shrek because he is big, looks mean, and probably lives in a swamp most of the year. He appeared once last year in my meadow but I ran out of daylight and time. This year he had been on my camera a few times but most of the time it was at night. I couldn't seem to catch him during the light hours of the day, but that all changed last week. I went to my parent's place to help my dad with some stuff, and at 1pm we finished up I headed out to my blind. I wasn't overly excited to freeze for the next four hours but lots of does had been moving through my area so it made sitting a lot easier. By 3:00 pm I had seen four different does and was watching a doe and fawn about 100 yards away from me (right where my ground blind use to be). All of a sudden, on the far edge of the meadow, I could see a buck walking across. I couldn't make out if it was Shrek but it looked big. I started shaking with anticipation, but after a few minutes, I realized it wasn't him (he was a nice deer though). He walked over to the doe and fawn, grunting the whole way. After he chased the doe and fawn off I though about shooting him but decided to let him grow a little more and he soon faded off into the woods. By 4pm the doe and fawn were back and by 4:15 two more does and one little buck were out in the same area. At that same time Kari started texting me asking me how hunting was going and when I was going to be home. Just after we ended our text convo, I looked up and saw him... Shrek... The one I had been freezing my tail off for the last two years. He was about two hundred yards off to my right, but he was making his way closer along the bush line. I no longer felt cold, my heart immediately started pounding, I started shaking, and the only thing I could think of was "please just give me a shot". He slowly walked towards me, which was great but it didn't give me much of a shot. Plus, in the amount of time it took him to move 80 yards I had turned into a emotional disaster (I felt like a 12 year old girl at a Justin Bieber concert). My buck fever was at an all time high as I raised my gun up and tried to put him in my cross hares. He finally took a step to the left and gave me a bit of a shot and I took it (I was afraid if I waited any longer my nerves would get the better of me). The buck immediately took off running right towards me. This made things worse for my nerves. I assumed I had missed him so I took a second shot at him. Then he stopped and fell... I'd like to tell you that I held my composure, that all I let out was a silent fist pump and a soft "yesssssss" like the pros do on tv but I didn't. I acted just like the 12 year old girls at the Bieber concert. I screemed, yelled, ran over to Shrek, snapped a picture with my phone (ps... I hit him with both shots), called my wife and dad (yelling I got him) ran back to my blind to get my knife but forgot why I went back to the blind, and ran back to Shrek until my dad showed up. When Dad got there I was still a emotional wreck and the first thing I said to him was "Dad I got him!" and he replied (in classic Chuck style) "Good, I hope you didn't shoot him where we have to drag him a mile". After we snapped a few pictures, we loaded him up and went home. It was the best way to end my fall and a day I'll never forget. I have to send out a huge thanks to my dad and my buddy Andy Carlson for all the help.

Sorry about the I-Phone pic... I know it's not the best.
Thanks again, and I hope your fall leaves you feeling like you just got home from the greatest Bieber concert too.






   
        

The Wonderful World of Sout Dakota

About two weeks ago my dad asked me if I wanted to go to South Dakota for a pheasant hunt with my cousin Jay and some friends from Indiana. I wasn't overly eager to jump at the opportunity, because of a few things. One reason was "the rut" was just around the corner and I had a great deer on my trail cam, and the though of missing my opportunity at a shot at him made me sick. The second reason was Kari and I had just bought our first house and she was doing most of the moving herself. Lastly, I was very skeptical about South Dakota as a whole. I had never been there but all I could think of was a flat chunk of nothingness with little to offer besides a rich history of native culture and Mount Rushmore. On the other hand I don't get to spend a lot of time with my dad away from work, so I decided to go on the trip. At the time I viewed the trip as a huge sacrifice for me (like any man would). Along with not being much help to my wife during our move I was stepping away from a chunk of prime time deer hunting and Shrek (Shrek is what I named the deer that has been showing up in my trail cam and haunting my dreams for the last month).

From the moment we arrived at Wagon Wheel Ranch in Kimball, South Dakota my expectations were exceeded. The lodge was beautiful, the rooms were more than comfortable, the food was great, and the owners Curt and Maureen and their son Michael were awesome right form the get go. We arrived on the evening of the 6th and were scheduled to hunt the next morning. Because of regulations we were not allowed to start hunting until 10am (I don't know why the regulations are set this way but when your cousin wakes you up at 5am it makes for a long morning). Before we headed out Curt went over some safety rules and explained how we would be hunting. Curt also explained to Jay and I that it was only legal to shoot roosters (male pheasants) and the rest of the crew all chimed in on how you could tell the difference between the two. They said there was nothing to it at all... roosters make a clucking sound when they get up to fly, roosters have longer tails, roosters are way more colorful, roosters flap their tail when they take off ect (sounds pretty easy). Curt gave the best tip and said that the easiest way to tell the difference between roosters and hens was that roosters had a thick white ring around their neck and hens do not.  We would be walking rectangular food plots, driving the pheasant with walkers and dogs while each side of the food plot would be occupied by flankers, and blockers at the end of each.

After our pheasant orientation we hopped on a school bus painted like a tiger and headed out to our field. On the first drive Curt and Michael set me up at the end of the plot blocking. Once again I wasn't sure what to expect but as soon as the drivers started walking around 300 pheasants kicked up out of the field. It was remarkable! Just to clear things up a little bit, despite what Indiana boys may say, when you are pheasant hunting for the first time and 300 pheasants are flushed out of a field it IS NOT easy to determine roosters from hens. In fact out of the 200 birds that flew within shooting range of me all 200 made it out safe and sound. I was so in awe that I didn't get a single shot off. Fortunately for me, one rooster stayed in the field about a minute longer than his buddies and when he flushed up I was ready and able to make a good second shot (note: Curt was right. The white ring on the neck of the roosters is one of the best ways to distinguish roosters form hens). The rest of the day was filled with similar action. Every field was filled with life. Lots of birds and the occasional deer. We had 10 guys hunting in our group, and with the limit of 3 pheasant per-person, our group limit was 30 birds. We had our limit by 12:30 despite me going 2 for 10 on my shooting... It was crazy. We hopped back on the bus and headed back to the lodge for a great lunch. After lunch we walked out to the skeet shooting range they have at the ranch to brush up on our trap skills.That night we had a great dinner, shot some bull and headed off to bed to do it all over again.

Day two, three, and four were almost identical the the first day. There wasn't a day where we didn't have a limit before 1:00 pm. It was one of the best hunting trips I have ever been on in every way.  I highly recommend the Wagon Wheel Ranch and this trip to anyone who loves the outdoors (I will definitely be making another trip). Curt, Maureen, and Michael are amazing at what they do and their hospitality is second to none. Last, I have to put my foot in my mouth and admit that South Dakota is beautiful and flat.

Sorry about the pictures. They were taken from my I-Phone but I will put better ones up as soon as I get them. 

Wagon Wheel Ranch
www.dakota-pheasant-hunting.com/index.htm
curt@dakota-pheasant-hunting.com
(605) 830-2925