Saskatchewan Round 5

It's been awhile since I've posted any updates to my Blog, mostly because of a lack of time due to a job change but also due to having nothing to report. This fall however is different-I have something that I feel I need to share.

I’ve spoken for years about my love for Saskatchewan, I count the days to my next year’s hunt often times prior to my depart for this year’s hunt-I'm excitable, what can I say. This year however taught me yet another hard life lesson, if only I could master learning the lessons looking forward instead of in the rear view mirror, and as the story goes.

I started a new job 3 years ago and since that time I've put my heart and soul into the job. As accomplishments grew, so did my ego. Although not coupled in the same category my 2016 Saskatchewan hunt did intertwine with the culmination of a long and hard three years of utter exhaustion. I didn't see it coming-but it came.

As last year progressed and I planned my trip up north, I worked, as I often do with everything, to perfect my trip to the standard that I deserved, due of course to my three years of grindstone efforts. As is normal I book at the hotel that the outfitter suggests, I'm standing at the door to be picked up by his staff and the only expectation that I have is that it will be very cold and maybe just maybe the big one will step out during shooting hours, as we all do.

This year was different for me; driven by three years of driving myself in the ground I came to the conclusion that I somehow "deserved" something better on this trip. So, I booked a First Class Flight, stayed at the brand new Courtyard by Marriott for which I'm a Marriott Rewards Member, rented a large SUV and booked with the premiere outfitter in Saskatchewan-nothing but the best in 2016!

Somewhere in that period of time my expectations were elevated, I somehow came to believe that I was owed something. This is where it all began to go wrong-and I didn't even see it coming.

I arrived in Minneapolis and as always it seemed that the airport was filled with hunters full of great anticipation, the conversations began; I came to know some really good people and was able for just a little while live vicariously through their excitement. You see at this point the trip had been nothing but labor for me, I was worn from work and a little unmotivated to trek through the steps from departure to arrival-I just wanted to get to the blind and feel that excitement of knowing that I had once again arrived to a place that is all but sacred to me.

As the trip progressed I met a gentleman who told me that this was his first trip to Saskatchewan, I was instantly enamored with his excitement. At 72 years young he was like a kid at a major league ballpark-wide eyed and almost shaking with anticipation. His success became my only goal, I couldn't wait to see his eyes and hear his story of "the one".

I tell you that story, and I'll get back to it, to tell you this story--

I am well versed in hunting Saskatchewan, anyone who’s been there more than twice is. There's no real secret to it, have the right gear/clothing, get the right outfitter and show up. Unfortunately I got lost in the moment and allowed my expectations not only for my 72 year young friend but also for me to get really high. I've stated in prior writings that the Big Book of AA states: Our expectations are directly proportional to our serenity-the higher our expectations, the lower our serenity. And so it was with me, the hard work of three years, my past experiences in Saskatchewan, my overwhelming desire for a couple of first timers to hit pay dirt and without even seeing it coming my ego over ran my humility.

Although I'll stand behind my concerns with the trip I will openly state that some little things were no doubt bigger in my eyes at the time then they really were. As those little things became big things my expectations were crushed - and I reacted like a child.

As I look back on the trip, with a little more humility than I had at the time, there are some things that I would have liked to be different however overall it was a pretty darn good trip. I'm happy that I took the trip the way that I did and I happy with the result, especially considering the hunting conditions-it was tough for everyone up north in 2016. The things that I now see and wish I could change are all driven by my ego and selfishness. The troubles that I had on this trip; all surround "me"!

William Penn once wrote that there are two things that can't be retracted: a spent arrow and the spoken word. I said some things that I now regret, at a minimum I didn't say them to the right audience, and I brought an air of negativity into a very positive situation - for that I am sorry.

As a hunter I believe that I have a certain code to follow, a level of behavior if you will, I crossed that line this year and I'm not happy about it. As we all do at times - I wish I could do it all over again. The overall result would have been the same but the damage could have been lessened.

My last night in camp I was sitting in the dining room with a couple of guys that I seemed to have attached to, in our conversation I apologized for any negativity that I brought and said that I really shouldn't have shared my thoughts with them, they quickly replied that they see the same things and I somehow felt justified - I know better than that! - That doesn't make it right for me to act that way.

As we began to break up I said that my only hope is that I was a much more positive force in camp than I was a negative one - it's now evident that my actions must have been bothering me already.

Life's lessons come hard and they come fast, even to an old man like me. This is a lesson that I won't soon forget.

Getting back to my young friend, I hope to be like him when I'm his age, always optimistic and takes life as it comes - I was blessed to have met and spent time with him and others. I still get excited when I see the above picture, what a guy!

I'll eat my humble pie, I deserve it! I'll try to take this lesson in humility and carry it forward, that's the best I can do at this point. Even at my age I can learn a lesson or two - The minute I think that I'm bigger than something, I need to get myself smaller real quick!

The wait is finally over!

For the most part I'm a patient man, sometimes and when I put some effort into it. That being said I've had my patients tried and tested, and I passed.

Thanksgiving week of 2011, after a long path of elderly family care, my wife and I agreed that I should take a hunting trip and enjoy myself for a week. And so the story goes-of course I picked Saskatchewan.

2011 was the last year that the outfitter had a full hunting season, after that they cut back in an attempt to sell the property and turn it over to the new owners. I planned the trip to coincide with some friends and then at the last minute I moved the trip a week so I could be there over Thanksgiving week, my personal favorite. Long story short-I harvested my buck on Thanksgiving morning.

Outside of that story is an underlying story, of family. A year or so before the trip we put my Mother in Law in a care home. Resting and cared for through the final stages of Alzheimer's. My wife and Father in Law were diligent in her care and visited to feed her every day that she was in the care home. Nanny passed the day after Thanksgiving 2011-while I was in Saskatchewan.

I told you that story to tell you this one-The wait is over. From childhood I've been an avid deer hunter. My issue has always been that I'm a dollar short and a day late. I couldn't afford to go on paid hunts or to lease land so I hunted state grounds and whatever land I could beg for. I've had a great time over the years but there's one thing I know-if you want to shoot big deer, you have to go to where the big deer are, and thus Saskatchewan.

It was the fourth day of the hunt, I hadn't seen one shooter in the previous three days. As you can read in a previous post, I was on stand about 10 minutes and had to wait about 10 more for it to be legal shooting time. A moment passed and I harvested a 155 class buck that came in early to visit.

The wait that the title refers to all started when I returned to New Jersey and sent my antlers and cape to my taxidermist in Ohio. After a long wait I contacted the taxidermist only to find out that his freezer gave out and he had lost my cape. I called the original outfitter and he was able to get me another cape from a big buck in Saskatchewan that had just been harvested. I sent it to the taxidermist and we were once again on our way-not quite. After about 6 months of waiting I called the local Sherriff's Dept. and asked them to pay a visit to the taxidermist. They did and about 2 weeks later the antlers (broken in half) and the cape arrived on my door step. I was referred to a local taxidermist and paid him a visit. Four months later-The wait is over!

Although an IPhone takes pretty good pictures, this picture doesn't come close to showing the amazing detail that the taxidermist put into this project. It is truly a work of art!

I've spent most of my life dreaming about the day that I would hang one of these on the wall, yesterday, Aug 8th, 2013, that dream came true! He's not a Boone and Crockett record book buck, but he's the one I've longed for most of my life.

It all seems like a blur now, almost two years later and the wait is finally over.

Kevo

Restless Warmth

With just over 130 days left until I depart for Ontario I can't seem to get into the hunting mood. It's been in the 90's here and the air feels like your walking under water. So it goes with those of us who live for those special few fall and winter months of hunting season.

Lately I've been thinking more and more about minimizing my hunting days and maximizing my fishing days. As I grow older it seems to get just a little bit harder to get up and go if you know what I mean. Somewhere the hunt left me and the outfitters came into play. It's become so much easier for me to pay someone else to do the work. I don't enjoy it as much but such is life.

My thoughts lately have turned more to the old days than usual, I expect it has something to do with the passing of my Mother in March. Both of my parents are gone, the memories stay. Seems the old days are getting farther and farther away, and just as troublesome is that making new days doesn't seem much nearer.

I'll dedicate this post to those cold early mornings in Nebraska as we prepared for the days hunt. Regardless of species the anticipation was much the same. Can't wake up fast enough, can't get my hunting clothes on fast enough and can't get into the truck and out of the driveway soon enough. My father behind the wheel, shotgun by my side and the defroster just beginning to replace the dew on the windshield with a clear view. It was hard to bend my legs with long john's, sweat pants and blue jeans on. It was cool to wear your hooded sweatshirt under the insulated flannel shirt, with the hood hanging out of course, still is.

I don't remember doing much in the way of shopping for hunting clothes, blue jeans and sweat shirts did then what a billion dollar enterprise does today-sorry Cabela's. Funny thing-you can still spot hunters a mile away, regardless of camo pattern. I admit that there were days when I could have used some of the $10,000 worth of hunting clothes that I have today back then, but back then we needed the $10,000 more. Knitted stocking caps, leather gloves and with any luck wool socks, but usually-two pairs of sweat socks were the outfit of the day-made it easier to do chores when you got home.

I'll mark this day as the day it all began to change, I've been searching fishing guides/trips across the US. The Old Man metamorphous is beginning, I'm becoming a boat sitter! I can't say that I don't like the idea, I think there's a fish or two out there for me to talk a little bit about, nothing like a campfire story.

As for this year it's on to Ontario followed by Manitoba, a pair of very interesting Whitetail hunts and a good chance to put two more on the wall. For me it's more than the hunt, I have some friends joining me in Ontario-I'm looking forward to sharing the hunt with them. And then it's on to Manitoba with a camp that will house only three hunters for the week. I look forward to the solitude, some time to reflect I guess, to balance the past and settle with the future. Retirement isn't that far away now and the thought of spending my days on the water with reel in hand feel pretty good.

With the dreams of catching a big eyed Tuna rolling around in my head it will be but a smile on my face as I cast just one more time for that big Crappie behind the log.

And so it is, the fall thoughts of a hunter at heart in the restless warmth of June.

It's on the Wall!

It's been slightly over a year since I placed my order for my fourth Leon Stewart Longbow, 56" @ 50lbs, well, it's on the wall! I've hung my longbows on the wall of my office not only to protect them but also so I can admire them while I'm in the office. A grandiose gesture of an egotistical hunter.

As I sit today, fighting off the affects of an upper respiratory infection of 2+ weeks I'm mourning in sorts. The passing of my Mother on March 6th, 2013 has me thinking a bit off keel. I often reach for the phone to call her. She was the 4th of our parents to pass, and the last. She'll be missed.

With thoughts of spring departing and summer arriving there's work to do outside, neither my wife nor I feel up to the task however there are things to be done-today I build a cover for our garden to keep the deer out-sort of apropos don't you think?

There is a bit of excitement in the air, my Saskatchewan Buck of 2 years ago is finally in the hands of a qualified taxidermist and is being worked on. It's been a long time coming which included a call to the local Ohio Sheriff's office to get the antlers and cape back into my hands. That issue is laid to rest. I have a spot on the wall readied for the delivery in a couple of months. Sad things had to come to that.

At present I'm focused on work and preparations for Canada this fall. As noted in the past post I've installed muzzle brakes on my 270wsm and 300wsm, the 270wsm for Ontario and the 300wsm for Manitoba. This fall is somewhat exciting in that the first outfitter is just getting into business and the second comes highly recommended by past patron's. I have high hopes for both hunts however I'm in it more for the trip than I am the harvest. A pair of 145 class bucks would suit me fine, but then so would a pair of 170+ bucks!

With the passing of my Mother and recent changes at work I had been a bit out of sorts, that's past and I'm looking forward to the near future. Settled as I can be I'm moving forward with those events. Outside of that I celebrated my 25th sober year in AA on April 1st, 2013. No small task however all has worked out for me. As a treat I decided to take myself fishing in Florida, I'll not embellish the event however as you can see by the picture, I was successful!

 

 

God has been good to me and I often find his Grace and Strength outside of my success', fact is my catching this fish only made me feel a bit bad for the gentleman I was fishing with, I truly would have celebrated more had he hooked it. God has his ways and I'm often humbled that he chooses me for gifts. A true gift this was-it was my last cast of the day!

 

I hope you and yours find the good in everyone and everything, there's no time for negatives!

 

Kevo

 

It's been awhile

 
It's been awhile since my last post, much has happened in our household-all for the better. It's early February and light snow is falling, we don't get very much here in New Jersey. A friend has traveled to Ireland to lay to rest a Mother in Law. All is as good as can be.

As the days pass I'm nearer my planned fall hunts-Ontario and then onto Manitoba, both are firsts for me. My expectations are high yet balanced, I realize that a 150 is a trophy there-a 150 is fine with me! The success of the trip will lie within the day I hit Omaha and hopefully hand off the venison to my brother for consumption. It will be a long ride home from Omaha this year if I'm to be home by Thanksgiving Day.

At the same time I'm filled with excitement as Friday I pick up my 7MM and 270wsm, both of which now sport a new muzzle brake. I'm not an advocate of muzzle brakes if your a range shooter, there a good way to lose friends on the range. I do however appreciate the new attitude that my 300wsm acquired once the muzzle brake was in use-it liked me and I liked it! Added to that I'm pending the arrival of my 2011 Saskatchewan mount, a new Winchester Model 70 Extreme Weather in .243 Caliber and hopefully a long awaited longbow, ordered over a year ago, still pending. Add it all up and there is much to be grateful for-God is Good!

It's been a little over a year since my Mother in Law passed, 7 months since my Father in Law joined her-they are missed. I think that we often overlook how much a person, especially a parent, plays in the roles of our lives. I find myself saying things Poppy said or moving my hand like Nanny did, and so it goes. I'd be proud if they'd live on through me.

It's been awhile, awhile since I sent my mount to the taxidermist, awhile since I put my rifles in the shop, awhile since I ordered the new longbow, awhile since I sent my deposits for Canada and awhile since I made the deal for the new .243. All should come to be in the near future. But more importantly, it's been awhile since I watched a Philly's game with my Father in Law, awhile since I took Nanny for a wheelchair ride or fed her lunch. It's been awhile since I've had to worry about what they thought about me marrying their daughter. Still it's as real as it was over a year ago. I still see it, feel it, smell it, they are still here with me everyday-and for that, I'm grateful.

I often look at the past as if it's still here, I reminisce, I cry, I smile-but I wouldn't change one detail. As my good friend Ernie would say-it is what it is! It's just been awhile.

Fall 2012

With just under 45 days till I sit a stand in Missouri I'd be lying if I said that I'm not starting to feel the itch just a bit. Leaves are falling more than changing, no doubt due to the hot summer we've endured, however there are bits of yellow and red in the forest. Cooler days shared with Sportsman's advertisements hitting the mail box-fall is in full force.

The falls plans are set and it's time to start pulling out the camouflage. As a thought reference my pending Nebraska rifle hunt I took my Winchester Model 70 Extreme Weather 300wsm to the gunsmith for a muzzle brake installation. I love the 300wsm caliber-just don't like the action on my shoulder. I fully realize of course that I'm trading recoil for noise, don't plan on shooting it much!

This falls season is going to be a little different than those in the past. I've written prior to this about my Father-in-Law and his "gunning" of times past. The thoughts of hunters in camp dawning their overalls and red flannel jackets. I don't know which came first, their generation or Elmer Fudd-both having sported the same style hunting caps!

Even today I can relate so much to his stories of hunting rabbits, quail and pheasants-remember, I was raised in Nebraska! With God at his side Poppy passed on July 15th leaving us with a hole in the middle of everything that we do and say. It's with the deepest respect that I say: Poppy and Nanny were the center of our world for some time, having lost both within an 8 month period-we're a bit lost right now.

For me, this falls hunts will be spent in solitude and reflection of my Father and Father-in-Law. I have the utmost respect for each and would be a lesser man if I'd not had them in my life. As with all things-the torch has been passed-tis I that heads the family now, I Pray that I can hand that torch off with the same meaning that it had when they passed it to me.

With opportunity to have successful hunts on both trips this fall there's something missing that meant so much to me in the past-I'll not be able to share my trip with those I've come to respect.

This blog will be short in nature and with little point to most, however it's intended to provide me with a moment in time to sit in solice and show respect to those who set my path. And at the same time take heed to the opportunity that's been afforded me through their passing-"we'll not know just how much of a man that we are until we are the only man".

With respect to my Father: Merle Leland Meyer and my Father-in-Law: Alstyne Douglas Polhemus

Thanks for all that you were and are....God's Speed!

Respectfully
Kevo

From a Child's Eyes

As those who know me will tell you, I'm kind of a dreamer when it comes to hunting. I can't afford those things that others can and at 55 years old I still don't have the time that I once thought I would when I got to this stage in my life. I have no complaints other than how hard it is to find a quality hunting space within the means of my account. I'm not sure if as a kid growing up I took my opportunities, as I remember them, for granted or if it was just a better time and place. Either way I've found myself wondering why I wasn't given or didn't find the opportunity to hunt that others seem to have. It's amazing how I've come from a self-supporting hunter as a kid who would walk 10 miles in the falling snow and not shoot a round to a guy who has placed expectations on the results of a hunt before I even have the license in hand.

I guess that's where I am at my age, wondering what happened to the wonderment of hunting-as a kid!

I mentioned in a blog a long time ago that I don't know if I was Blessed to have had the childhood that I did or if I am cursed to have the memories. Fact is there have been moments over the past few years where I found myself thinking about selling/donating/giving my hunting stuff away and calling it quits. I think that for the most part over the past 20 years it's been that one more trophy that I was looking for or that one more friend to share a hunt with. Now it seems that I'm just trying to find and relive that past childhood that I once enjoyed.

I've found life a bit trying lately, family, work, friends-all changing and not always for the good. At the same time however I landed a very respectable 155+ inch buck in Saskatchewan last fall, kind of weighs in right between the buck of a lifetime and "the one"....a 170+ incher. Make no mistake about it, I've lived my last 10 years in search of just one for the record book, on limited funds and time-it's but a dream.

I think that the true trophy in hunting lies within the experience itself. Each hunt over the last decade has brought memories and experiences second to none, yet only one respectable wall mount to talk about-and oh so many stories to tell.

I've somehow grown to be an adult version of that kid from Nebraska of oh so long ago. I think my father would be proud of me, not so much over my lifetime, but the end result-well, it ain't half bad.

Rest assured that although many guns have disappeared from the safe, ammo has been supplied to others and hunting gear such as unused climbing stands-that I just had to have-have been given away to those who would use them, that there is still a place in my heart for what I refer to as Remington Country. I long to be there and once there I'm a kid again. Over the past several years I've found myself not hunting while others were stomping the brush lines, sitting in a truck watching as friends walked valley's and canyons that once would have been my own fortress of solitude. I've worked hard to find places for guys to hunt just to see one of them harvest a wall hanger, all for not though. Several shot opportunities, no hangers.

The joy of the kill has all but left me, lingering in it's place is an absolute wonderment in all that I see while afield. There is an air of uncertainty as I grow older, not sure how much time I have left to stand in the field. I watch as my Father in Law ages knowing that he'll never step foot afield to go gunning as he lovingly calls it. My own Father has passed, he left but memories. I look in the mirror and see those lines on my face, knowing that I'm the next wave to pass. I stand ready, smile on my face, I've finally realized that I've received all that I wanted from hunting-to be able to see it from a Child's Eyes.

Snow Angels and Hunting Guides

Sitting in my ground blind on Thanksgiving morning I was full of anticipation, to say the least, it was the 5th day of my hunt and I was getting just a bit impatient with the local Whitetail population. The events of the day were about to unfold and I had no idea what was coming.

As the guide drove off and my fire began to warm the cold morning air there was movement only feet in front of my blind, a doe and a fawn headed for the bait pile. Beginning of the day and it was already on. As the sun began to rise with only minutes until it was legal shooting time the doe and her fawn stared intently behind them, then lowered their heads and wandered off in the opposite direction. If you hunt Whitetails-you know what's coming next! Out of the woods wondered a larger dark object, at first it was hard to tell but only a moment later the outline of antlers hit the morning sky.

At this point I could probably stop authoring this blog, most of you have already anticipated the ending, and for the most part you would be correct. Yes, after looking through the 50mm objective lens for the 3rd and 4th times I sat my rifle down, looked out through the screen netting and asked myself a question that I've never asked myself before: How are you not shooting that Buck? Within seconds the rifle when off and the bullet was headed down range. After four long cold days at the Lost Meadow stand, a move planned by my guide put me in a now hallowed ground known as "Zeek's Meadow".

There were some technical difficulties in getting a hold of my guide, he had moved about 20 miles away or so to meet up with the outfitter and apparently-just out of radio range. Moments passed, seemed like hours, and a voice came over the airwaves. It was the outfitter-Kevin, if that is you-key your mic 3 times....I complied. Moments later-Okay it's not Kevin...Rick, if that is you-key your mic 3 times.........I almost passed out.

I had a Saskatchewan Buck that was out of sight, moments seemed like hours and they couldn't hear me on my radio......and then my guide came on the airwaves....Kevin, if that's you key your mic 2 times....click-click.....Okay, if you have a deer down key your mic 2 times....again: click-click....hang on, I'll be there in about 20 minutes......I could have pissed myself!

Excitement quickly turned to question though: did I make a good shot? Did I even hit him? What if I hit him and we don't find him? Breath Kevin Breath.......

I heard the quad coming through the trees and as the guide arrived I was already packed, the ground blind was unloaded and I was ready to go-Breath Kevin Breath. As we approached the bait pile there was no sign of blood......the air went out of me. My guide pointed and said here's a drop-and the chase was on. There is a whole other story I can tell you about our tracking job-I'll save if for another time.

Some 30 yards away piled up in some willows laid what I came to Saskatchewan for-A 150+ Buck! So I thought............

That's where your guessing ends, and my story begins. You see, I brought some baggage with me to Saskatchewan, over a year of some tough times for myself and my family. Emotional stuff that I ventured North to leave behind for a few days-that's where God stepped in.

Upon arrival at Camp I entered the lodge and ran into Micheal-one of my previous guides. I had met the other guides but really didn't know them. My guide was assigned and I was a bit shocked-happy-but shocked.

My guide had a very slow and steady way about him, kind of peaceful in all. I'm wrapped so tight that if someone would have bumped me with a pair of scissors there's no telling where I would have landed. 90 miles a hour and way ahead of my guide!

After twisting my guides ear on the way to the blind and back-I figured he put me somewhere real close to the lodge so he didn't have to hear it anymore, but he didn't. He offered a smile, I tried to slow down, minutes later I was on a role.....as I usually am.

That morning, Thanksgiving Day, the morning my guide and I loaded the Buck and headed to camp we were side tracked to the old construction site to meet up with the outfitter. As we sat, everything seemed to slow down-at least for me. My guide ate his sandwich, I talked, my guide drank his soda, I talked some more, and so it went for about a half hour-then it hit me!

About 50 feet from where we were parked there was a pile of gravel about 100 feet long and 40 or so feet high. The side was formed by the gravel sliding down as they piled it-it was covered with snow. I did what anyone would do after having 5 days like I'd just had, I got out of the truck, wandered over and planted a snow angel on the side of that pile. My guide and I had a good laugh-things seemed to lighten up. Our conversation turned and my guide shared some things that most would bury from their memory. He didn't smile as he talked yet somehow I knew he was okay inside, peaceful in his conversation. It was that moment that I went to Saskatchewan for and I didn't even know it.

As with all of my hunts there seems to be something other than hunting that sticks in my memory. A sight or a sound, a deer or a magpie, or maybe a new friend. That day my guide became more than a guide-he became a good friend. I think God wanted it that way. My baggage was gone.

Try as we may there is little we can do about planning our day, let alone our lives, we just never know whats coming down the pike as they say.

I don't know if I'll get to Saskatchewan again, and if I do I'm pretty sure I'm not going to get the same guide, but that's okay-I don't think I'll ever be able to hunt in Saskatchewan without hearing him in my ear saying: it is what it is! A lesson we could all learn!

Silence is Golden

Seldom has there been a day on stand that I wasn't entertained by the far off sounds of cars passing or children at a local school house playing. Deer seem to adapt to places like that, where the sounds come and go at relatively the same time every day. There is of course that golden moment that happens right around 9:00am where everything seems to stop and the chill of the morning cuts through the hunting attire that you chose for that day.

Not so much with Saskatchewan, The chill is there from the time you rise out of bed to meet the morning and pretty much stays there all day-you have to dress right. However something is missing once on stand and your guide has departed, something most take for granted as we accept it as the norm-there's no outside noise. Oh, there is the sound of an occasional logging truck in the distance-sometimes 20 or 30 miles away however other than that-silence.

I read a story about an Indian Chief once, he said that one must listen to one's self to find out how ignorant one is, if one listens to one's silence the torment will rise and be heard. I'm not sure exactly what he was getting at but I do know this-in the silence of the Saskatchewan Deer stand every noise is multiplied and your thoughts seem as though they are out loud and can't be silenced. Matched only by anticipation there is a constant battle to not fall within yourself and feel your every thought.

Northern Saskatchewan is Hollowed ground in my eyes, yes-there's probably been someone else in the stand that your sitting at one time or another however there's no guarantee that the deer before you have ever been there. You may well be encountering Whitetails who have never encountered a Human before. And so it is-Saskatchewan.

It is in that Silence where I find myself coming to grips with the past, exploring new thoughts and ideas, find myself fighting off the urge to take a nap and all at the same time feeling the chills of morning and anticipation as they run from your toes to your head and back. It's within the silence of the northern woods where one can come to terms with one's self, kind of settle the past a bit and at the same time find hope for the future. A time when your thoughts seem to scream and your sandwich bag sounds like a paper bag being crumpled.

The silence of Northern Saskatchewan is more than just a hunting land, it's a refuge-a refuge from all that was and all that will be, a space in time to sort things out and make decisions, a place to settle pasts and plan futures. Yes, the silence of Northern Saskatchewan is Golden!

If you travel to Saskatchewan and you don't use that time to the fullest you'll have missed something. A mount on the wall is the obvious goal, however the piece and serenity it brings when the week is truly lived will show in your heart for ever. 

Realistic-Not so much

It's that time of year when lawn work and warm weather take the place of online shopping for hunting clothes and cleaning guns. I often wonder what I'd be like if I lived in a place where the fall season reigns all year long. Luckily for me the cool weather still sets in the evening and the fan above my bed makes it feel fall like when I lay down to go to sleep.With somewhere around 173 days to go until I leave for my Saskatchewan hunt one would think that it would be on the back burner of my "things to do" list, but no.

This year is going to be a bit different from the norm for me, there is no master plan in place. Of late my hunts have involved several months of calls, conversations with landowners and reading maps and statistics looking for "the place". Using outfitters is something relatively new to me, I joined a friend as a guest on a Saskatchewan trip several years ago and enjoyed a return trip in the same manner. Another friend got me to go to an archery outfitter in Ohio and again we returned a year or so later, but other than that-I've been the outfitter for the most part.

This year I have but one responsibility-get there and bring what I need! The rest is up to "others". I know that some of you are thinking that it's a lazy man's game and I'd agree in part. I don't have to do the scouting, prep work, set up accommodations, get permissions, study maps and arrive early to check out the lay of the land, but I'm not being lazy about this trip either. All paperwork is submitted, flights-hotels and rental cars are paid for and 50% of the deposit is submitted with the other 50% pending a check that I'm waiting for in late July or early Aug. I've done all that I can do but dream.

The thing that I now deal with-expectations. I mean for God's Sake this is Saskatchewan, home of the world record and a place where bucks arrive on stand almost all day and hunters go home with antlers in hand should they choose to. As for me, I've been there twice with success in hand but not really with Saskatchewan type success in hand. I'm looking for a wall hanger! In fact, if I get the one I dream of I may have to hang him at Cabela's......lol.

Is it realistic to think that Saskatchewan is a sure thing-yes-about as sure as you can get. Is it realistic to think that your guaranteed a 170+ B+C Buck-Not so much! There is an abundance of 130-150 inch and there are surely 150-170 inchers standing in the wings during most typical hunts....but....they didn't get that big by visiting the bait pile outside the hours of darkness!

If you want to be realistic about Saskatchewan you need to realize that although it is truly the land of dreams it is also the land of disappointment should your expectations get the best of you. What I find interesting about Saskatchewan and what keeps me excited thinking about going back is the sheer wilderness of where I hunt and that fact that at any time you could encounter a mature buck who has never seen nor encountered a human before. I have hunted across much of our great land in the lower 48 and yet what I think draws me to the great northern woods is the deer behavior that's encountered. First and foremost is the number of deer you see on stand each day but coupled with that is their lack of pressure allowing them to act naturally right in front of you. You'll not find a better Whitetail University than the northern woods of Saskatchewan!

My expectations are high but realistically I'm well aware of what is on the menu. A super hunt, a break from life as I know it and an opportunity to see nature being nature in it's purest form. Hey, if I get lucky I might even harvest a mature whitetail buck-wouldn't that just be the icing on the cake!

Hunting Wishes

I spend much of my time in hotels as I travel searching the Internet and reliving the haunts of hunting past and harvest future. There's a dream of mine that exceeds any other goal or desire that I have when it comes to hunting: I want to hunt just one more day with my Father!

Merle Leland (Mike) Meyer was born to a Nebraska farmer, although his restless spirit made him chase an invisible dream it was his roots in the great state of Nebraska that quieted his spirit and soothed his soul. As so it is with me, his son! Mike-my Father-passed away in November of 2000 God rest his soul, he is buried in Nebraska.

As I sat at dinner last night in an upper class restaurant that sits right on the water at Penn's Landing in Philadelphia, I listened politely as someone belittled Nebraska as a barren waste land. Honestly it was all I could do not to defend the great state however I decided that she doesn't need me to defend her from someone who knows nothing about her. For me Nebraska is a state of mind, a safe place to be when life is in turmoil, a great escape if you like. I too, like my father, harbor a restless soul, and as my wife defines it-I wish my life away. I only feel complete when I stand once again within the boundaries of my home state.

As the conversation moved on to several others who couldn't help but put in their two cents worth on a state they have merely traveled through-my thoughts began to wander and it hit me: when I go back-I go back to be with my father! It's as though I'm safe there with him to see over me, I'm once again-a kid-my fathers son! Although my wife would never live there, she fully understands that something draws me there and that I'm a better man when I return home to New Jersey just for having been there. It's somehow-my time with Dad!

Deer hunting will forever be-Deer hunting. But Deer hunting with Dad is a thing of the past. A memory that will linger for as long as I can lift my rifle, a dream to be smiled about, a goal to be cried about. I'll never again in life-hunt with my Father. It is my wish to those who hunt that they may see more than the harvest when they hunt, I wouldn't want anyone to miss the smell of coffee as the thermos is opened, the horizon as the sun comes up or lays down, the short distance between them and their fathers who sit next to them.

May hunting forever be a place where one feels safe and secure, and for me at home if you will-with my Father.

In loving memory of all the cornfields and duck blinds

Respectfully your son Kevin Scott "Scooter" Meyer

Plans well made!

I was told once that I don't let the grass grow under my feet! Well, it's happened again. Today is March 20th and I've just booked my last hotel night for my Saskatchewan Trip, it's all planned down to the amount of US Currency I need to exchange for Canadian Currency before the trip. This trip is special to me, I guess that's why I'm so excited. I'm doing this one with friends however at the same time-I'm doing it alone!

I've had favor to go to Saskatchewan two times prior to this trip. There were several of us on the trip and we planned it out and did it together all the way from departure to arrival. I'm going with friends this year as well however-I'm doing this one alone! The usual trip involves arriving on Saturday and checking into a local motel for the night, the next morning we board up with assigned drivers and undertake the 5 1/2 hour ride north to the lodge. Now I don't want to sound selfish however this trip is totally and unequivocally-for me! I've booked my flight for Friday (a day early) so I'm not traveling with the hoards of Saturday arrivals. I'm hoping for a quiet trip and a good nights sleep in downtown Saskatoon. My partners will be arriving Saturday midday to late afternoon and I'm sure we'll get together for dinner. Of course the following day we'll be driving up together, for me that's where it all ends. My flight home will be on a Monday, in exchange for the normal Sunday flight!

For the last several years I've been focused on trying to get some other hunters a respectable Midwestern Nebraska Buck. Although my attempts have been lacking, none-the-less it was me who sat by watching others hunt and doing what I could to get people in the right spots. I'm generally unselfish as it is, however this fall is different. Once I land at the lodge-it's all about me!

On my past trips I've ended my hunts on Wednesday and Thursday respectively, with lesser bucks harvested. I've often wondered what would have happened had I just hung in there a little longer. There have been some monsters harvested in the region and I still yearn for "The One". With all of this in mind, I have learned over the years that my serenity is directly proportional to my expectations. Now that the trip is 100% a go, all I have to do is close my eyes at night and dream about that moment in time! I'm trying not to get too jazzed up, but I will. If you wouldn't, your not a true whitetail hunter!

There is nowhere in the world like Saskatchewan during the Rut for whitetail hunters! If you don't believe me, you haven't been there. I pride myself a Godly man however annually I'm drawing dangerously close to selling my soul for a trip up north....lol! As with most I have obligations to concern myself with: family, work, family, lawn, family and all things financial. Did I mention family? There are a lot of ships rocking out there in the ocean, I'm not willing to rock the one I live in....if you know what I mean!

I have to say, there is an air of calmness now that I've booked the last hotel night required for the trip-it's on! Hopefully I can just sit back and relax until November......NOT!

It is my sincere wish that those who would read this blog would one day land at Saskatoon Airport on their way up north, there's just nothing like it in the world!

A Moment in Time

There is an air of familiarity in my newly renovated office. Late last week my 2009 Nebraska Whitetail mount arrived via UPS. As it is only the second full head mount that I've done in my hunting career it hangs predominately as you walk in.

I find myself quite humbled in its presence actually. No, it's not a monster or world record, fact is many may have passed on the opportunity-and normally so would I. As you may recall from an earlier story I was hunting a piece of state land with the hopes that my hunting buddy Rich would get a reasonable shot at a mature mid-western buck. As we worked our way back to the boat that brought us to our hunting spot I trailed Rich giving him every opportunity at a first shot. As it happened I worked my way a little bit too far to the left and ended up on an adjoining point and not where the boat was. As I turned back to the path that had led me to that spot, three (3) Whitetails jumped up from a daytime bedding spot and within seconds I "incorrectly" identified a set of antlers as a 3x3 and before he could get up a head of steam the harvest was over.

As I worked my way around the ditch to get a better look at the buck I was pleasantly surprised to see a 10 point (due to split brow tines)! Although not the trophy that I had hoped Rich would land, it still would have been a fine harvest for him as well.

I stated earlier that I feel "humbled", it has been a long time since I stepped foot afield with my father. When he passed in 2000 I had the opportunity to recall and relive many of the hunting days with him. None any better than the last-all were good days!


At 53 years old I am privileged to have hanging on my wall a link to a childhood dream. I spent most of my hunting days in my father’s tow however until this opportunity, in spirit of course, I harvested my first Nebraska Whitetail with my father beside me. Although it has only been hanging for a couple of days it almost brings a tear to my eye when I walk into the room. It's a connection if you will, to the days of holding my father’s hand, cleaning our shotguns together or just sitting on the front porch with a glass of iced tea. I miss him!

As I sit here tonight I fully understand how silly this all seems to my wife and daughter, Jersey born and raised, not much on hunting anything. I admit that it isn't a trophy most would spend much time on, let alone wait a year to have it mounted. I feel almost foolish as I send out the picture to my hunting buddies-probably the smallest buck harvested amongst the group in some time. But they don't know my Dad!

This one's for you Dad, the dry spell is over and yet another fond memory of hunting past shares my life and times. It's a connection of sorts, a look back into the past, a memory that just happened. As I often say to Rich: It's a Moment in Time!

This fall I head to Saskatchewan, the land of dreams, yet there stands nothing in those woods that can link me to my father. The harvest, should there be one, will be enjoyed as a new event-a New Moment in Time, none however will replace the attached Nebraska Buck in bringing me back to a moment with my Father.

The "Wait"

I don't know about anyone else, but for me, hunting season begins the day it ends! 2010 is in the books and 2011 is in the planning stages. Armed with a dream and an opportunity the required deposit has been sent and my third Saskatchewan hunt has been put into action.

I can go on forever about what I feel can happen while sitting a stand in what has repeatedly proven itself to be the best place in the world to hunt whitetails-but I won't! This blog is about : The "Wait"! Tonight as I sit in my hotel room, ice storm looming on the horizon and tomorrow's activities being an unknown, I find myself before the computer as a means of sanity and escape. An email sent reference a close encounter between Archer and Elk started my mind rolling about the great north woods of Saskatchewan. As of today I have two of my close friends, one a repeat hunting buddy, the other will be hitting the woods with me this fall for the first time, pending Saskatchewan deposits-although committed verbally.

I'm not sure that I can top the Michigan encounter with a 170 class buck that one of them had in 2010, but hopefully we'll have some fun along the way and a picture to hold the moment.

There are circumstances holding the final decision to commit by a friend which will be resolved within the next two weeks, although I fully expect things to work out and a commitment to be made, it's hard to sit by waiting to know that all three are booked, dates set and travel plans made. All part of: The "Wait"!

For those who know me it's no secret that I find greater reward in the success' of others while afield, however the past 4 years have been slow for my efforts and all involved and Saskatchewan offers success to most all who visit her. It is my sincere hopes and/or expectations that antlers will come home and mounts will be procured for the three of us. And although two of us have committed the whole picture just won't be complete until number three sends in his deposit. I would be happy to take this trip alone, however there will be something missing should he not make the trip with us.

For those who hunt it's well known that the Rut in Saskatchewan is like being nowhere else on earth. The great north woods offers opportunity to see: wolves, buffalo and moose while on stand and many end their hunts early with a lesser buck and a realization that they missed what I call "The Movie". Spending a day on stand watching deer interact like they do in the wild is one of the most exciting events a true whitetail hunter can observe. Many focus on Saskatchewan as a place to harvest a respectable buck, I see it as one of the best learning experiences a hunter can have.

I've offered up a $100 bill to either of my buddies should they voluntarily leave their firearm in camp and sit their stand weaponless for the first day of the trip, neither are willing to bite! I suggest to you that being on stand without your chosen weapon as shooter bucks frequent the area is harder than one would think, I have visions of grown men drooling at dinner having seen multiple trophies without means to harvest them.

Saskatchewan is more to me than a place to shoot a deer, it's an opportunity to see nature being nature! During this period I refer to as: The "Wait" I have restless moments thinking about one of my hunting buddies missing out on what I earlier referred to as "The Movie". What would be the use of experiencing anything worth living for-should it not be shared!

An so the wait continues, a mere two weeks until the verdict is in and the plans begin to take form. It's my sincerest hope that he will join us on this trip as there is more to it than just harvesting a great north woods whitetail, it's an experience all it's own!

And so it goes with hunting, waiting comes in many forms for those of us with lesser means and who have to grab opportunities when we can, I just don't want to miss sharing this experience, to go it alone would take from the trip-that which makes it a trip, and would only leave "the harvest"!

Time Well Spent

As I sit here at my desk I often wonder how and what I would change about this past hunting season. 2010's season isn't over exactly-but it is for me! December has brought about the cold air and the realization that winter is here to stay. Nebraska averaged about 45 degrees during rifle season this year, a little warmer than I would have liked it to be.

I arrived in Nebraska a week early this year, actually arrived at camp on Tuesday prior to the Saturday opener, wanted to check out the area since it was the first time I had hunted the panhandle. The bucks were chasing does, seems like deer were everywhere you looked, the temperatures changed on Thursday and the deer disappeared only to be found on others trucks and trailers beginning Saturday morning.

As always I get pumped up which leads to a massive downswing when things don't go well. I enjoyed the hunt mind you, just could have been a bit better. They say that a bad day hunting is better than a good day at work, I assume "they" don't enjoy their jobs. As for me the frustration mounted quickly as the realization came that there were too many hunters and not enough deer on the property that we had permission to hunt. We altered our course as any good hunter would do and chased the mighty beasts around State Lands and further into neighboring private property. I would have to say that I saved the lives of more deer than I've harvested! Ben landed a respectable buck on a last ditch effort. We hit a piece of State Land with pine trees on it on our way home and out he popped!


Hunting for me has always been a thing to share, I just don't like hunting alone as much as I do with others. Harvesting a Buck is alright for sharing bragging photo's but it's more than that to me; it's the whole trip! From the time I send out the first email to the day that I pack up and head home is all part of the hunt to me, I enjoy other's excitement more than my own I guess. This year was somehow different, I booked bad land, the weather wasn't right, the Rut was on hold and I just couldn't find deer!

I would tell you that I have a knack for finding the right spots to hunt, you put me on a piece of property and within minutes I have a plan and know where not to hunt! This year my thoughts were all over the place, I just couldn't find the deer! My frustration falls in the area of my hunting buddies, me-if I don't harvest a deer I still enjoy the hunt, this year I invited 3 of my buddies and if not for the miracle on State Land we would have headed home with 2 does for our efforts. A fine feat, but not what I traveled 1500 miles for!
By Tuesday of the week I had turned my efforts to small game, didn't give up on the deer just wanted to do something while I waited for the others to harvest deer. A Jackrabbit, Pheasant, Grouse and Turkey all fell to my Remington, followed by a Doe near the end of the week. It was a multitasking hunt in my eyes and multitask I did.....lol.

It goes without saying that if you put yourself fourth on the list for harvest, you'll probably go hungry. I've been reasonably unselfish for the last few years....It's my turn!
2011 looks to be the best opportunity I've had in a few years to bag a buck, it's back to Saskatchewan I go! November seems way to far off to be thinking let alone planning on a hunt but as I'll tell anyone who understands Remington Country, it comes faster than you think!
Time spent in the field is always good time as long as no one gets hurt. I can't say that I didn't enjoy my November Nebraska trip-I always do! As I look back I've been re-thinking that being fourth on the list thing, I think it's my turn next fall.

As for this fall, it was still time well spent!

Commitment to Canada

It's been hovering around 90 degrees almost everyday for over a month now, it's hard to focus on all things hunting when you step out the door and the humidity hits you in the face. Much has happened over the last few days. On a whim I asked one of my hunting buddies Jim if he is up for a Canada Whitetail hunt in 2011, to which he replied via text message: "YES"!!! I then pinged my other hunting buddy Rich and his response was similar in nature: "Absolutely". And so it goes, the plans have begun and the sleepless nights once again have entered into my home.

It takes some effort on my part to get to Canada, I'm not what you would refer to as a "man of means". I have to save and save and then try to save to make it a trip worthwhile, so save I will! Within minutes of committing to a Canada trip the haunts of today set in, Nanny and Poppy still aren't settled, my wife remains a homemaker and caregiver to her parents where she needs to be and having a single income makes it harder to justify a $6000 trip to the great north woods.

Albeit a short jaunt of depression several things came to mind that gave me a way out of my darkness and into a 747 headed to Saskatoon! In the same week that we discussed Canada I was lucky enough to be led to an outfitter in Iowa that has some real good setups for traditional archery. The more we talked the more I liked him and the more my mind began to change. I couldn't wait to call Rich and tell him about my new found opportunity and suddenly the sleepless nights are back! Having settled in with a definite maybe on either Saskatchewan or Iowa I was fortunate enough to be introduced to a business colleague of mine who told me that his family owns two large farms in Iowa and would probably let us hunt there. Okay, now imagine my dismay!

I went from an expensive Canada hunt to a less expensive and exciting Iowa hunt to a non-outfitter cheaper than dirt Iowa opportunity in a flash! Man is Rich getting tired of my emails.

The point of this post is in the Love of the Sport. There are great things to say about any hunt and Canada and Iowa alike are producing massive antlered deer. Either one of those opportunities would do for most of us, but it's Canada for me. In an earlier post I talked you through a Canadian Hunt from inception to conclusion and so it will be again, I'm off to the great north woods in 2011!

Although Canada is as close as you can come to a guaranteed harvest there's so much more to a trip there than can be explained. My outfitter and friend has over 350 square miles of great north timberland. Most will tell you that the really big bucks are south of the Saskatchewan Mason-Dixon line known as Meadow Lake however there are no shortage of bucks 60 miles north of there and nothing like the feeling of being on stand knowing that there's not another human being within miles of you. the sheer excitement of seeing a wolf or moose wonder through without any regard to you is nothing short of amazing. Seeing 10 to 20 shooter bucks a day doesn't hurt either!

Is it worth going up there for what it costs? Let's just say that I'm on the brink of saving my pennies, selling some guns and alienating my wife to go, so I'd say so!

This time of year I should be focused on golf, work, lawn and the lack of rain and yet somehow I find time to let my mind wander into hunting. I have two fishing trips planned this year and still I see antlers when I close my eyes at night.

With my Nebraska trip planned and settled for this fall and the potential for a Canada hunt in 2011 I'll be a mess for another 15 months or so! I think sometimes that it's all things hunting that keep me sane and yet it's also what makes me crazy.

Today I built an Oak rack for my longbows (shown above) and tomorrow I head out for central Pennsylvania for a two day golf outing and I'll probably no doubt spend much of the time talking about hunting. I can't help it: as Ursala says in the Little Mermaid-It's what I do, it's what I live for!

So off to bed for yet another night of tossing and turning, the kind that a commitment to Canada brings.

There are certain days

I find it harder to get motivated towards the art of hunting when the average daily highs are in the low 90's. When walking from your house to your truck in the driveway gets you sweating the thoughts of climbing a hill or setting up a ground blind couldn't be farther from your thought patterns.

Once again I find myself sitting in the office surrounded by what was and items that have yet to be and thinking about this upcoming fall season. Due to unforeseen events this fall is going to be a one and done hunting season. A Nebraska Sandhills rifle hunt will be the thing my dreams are made of from now until November. With two (2) either sex hunting licenses and attached Bonus Doe tags there are four (4) deer somewhere out west who may be feeding multiple hungry families.

My plan is to harvest the first nice buck I see and then focus on that one of a kind Mule Deer Buck, unless he appears first. The area where I'll be hunting houses about a 50/50 mix of Whitetails and Mulies, with river bottom land and several square miles of sandhills on the property so both will come into play. With this confounded heat wave we're having it was quite inspiring to wake up this morning to rather chilly temperatures outside.

At 5:30am my Pembroke Welsh Corgi (Lorrie) decided that she would like to go out so she woke me up and out we went, I'm glad she did! As I walked out of our master bedroom door into what was a bit of a chill my thoughts immediately turned to being in a tree stand or on the side of a hill overlooking a valley. Funny how fast your thoughts can turn on certain days.

I mentioned earlier that this was a one an done season however that's not exactly true. Last fall I cleaned out my safe and traded a few lesser rifles and shotguns for two Remington CDL Stainless Fluted rifles in .270wsm and .300wsm, what else could a man want? With two new rifles and two Nebraska either sex licenses I figure I'm really looking at two hunts! I think maybe the .300WSM first followed hopefully by filling a tag with the .270WSM later in the week. Imagine if you will, two trophy hunts in the same week!

There are four of us going on the trip this fall, my hunting buddy Rich of course followed by my long time grade school buddy Ben to which we've added a business partner and friend Gary from Missouri. I find that the quality of a hunt is directly effected by the quality of the persons on the hunt and you couldn't find 3 more quality guys than the crew we've put together. Each in and of his own right a hunter but mostly each in and of his own right a genuine nice guy!

I find that the stories told after the hunt seldom enlightened the harvest but more so the events of the trip, you need good people to have good events! Today is yet another 90+ east coast day yet being a Saturday I'm sure that it will be filled with all things hunting for me. I need to get my longbow(s) out and loose some arrows before Rich calls me to the carpet, I think a quick cleaning (wipe down) of the guns in the safe is in order not to mention finding my hunting clothes containers now that Poppy and Nanny's household goods are stored in our garage. To me getting ready is half of the fun of a hunting trip.

As for those two rifles, they both need the barrels worn in on them, the Winchester XP3s are sitting on the desk, the range is open and I have the targets made up for 200, 300 and 400 yards however did I mention that it's 90+ degree today...lol, they'll just have to wait to take their first ride to the range.

There are certain days alright and today is one of them, if only to have a time machine! My wife often comments that I wish my life away waiting for my next hunt, she's probably right-she usually is. However wish it away I will, because this is one of those certain days!

Nebraska Sandhills

I think that I'd be safe in saying that about 98% of Americans probably find no allure in the Nebraska Sandhills. Rolling hills of sand topped by weeds for the most part. Evergreen bushes seem to be just about the only thing that grows well, should it have opportunity to grab foot. In the middle of nowhere there's a line of oaks and cottonwoods giving away any water to be found in the area. As I stated earlier: miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles.

To me the Sandhills are a place of refuge, comfort if you will. Early mornings show dew covered landscapes only to bring back the sheer magnitude of space as the sun slowly rises and the shadows recede to bring the day. Most would think that barren land relates to barren wildlife yet wildlife flourishes at every corner. From Mule and Whitetail Deer to Mountain Lion with the breadth of upland game and waterfowl between, the land slowly comes alive late afternoon. Out of nowhere a hunters paradise.

I've been lucky enough through my contacts to have gained access to a northwestern ranch near the panhandle, 3600 acres of ranch land, shared with few. The landowner, a 78 year old gentleman with Parkinson's and Cancer was more than hospitable and so it was, another hunting trip was born!

If you read between the lines in early posts you'll easily see that I've invited my hunting buddy Rich to join me out west, 3 years in a row now. My plan to take him began while sitting in his basement looking at his mounts on the wall. As with any hunter the trophy sits prominent. I asked him to tell me the story about his mounts and a friendship was formed. It has been no secret between Rich and I that I am out to put him on the biggest buck he's ever shot, defining biggest as in rack size.

We've been to Nebraska twice now, missed one opportunity, noted another before sun up and now look forward to hunting by far the best piece of property for achieving that goal that we've hunted to date. Although I tend to the hunting fires throughout the entire year, this year is different. I am actually giddy about the upcoming opportunity. Not only did I acquire a set of Remington CDL Stainless Fluted Rifles in .270wsm and .300wsm this year I also acquired my first (second and third) Leopold Vari-X3 scope(s). Atop the .300wsm sits a 4.5 x 14-50mm silver Leopold with fine duplex reticles, soon to be sighted in at 200 yards. New Rifle, new Scope, new Land and a new year! Who wouldn't be giddy about that?

With all that I have to smile about for the next 198 days, 18 hours and 35 minutes it came up in conversation that Rich would like to invite someone along with us this fall. At the time that the subject was broached I had lost access to over 2000 acres and was struggling to find land to achieve my ultimate goal, so I just kind of blew it off. Once confirmed that we had gained access to not one ranch but four, the subject was gently brought up again by Rich. Upon going just a little further in our conversation it became clear to me that Rich wanted to bring a long time work partner of his who also has become a new found friend to me.

Being born and bred in the heart of the Husker Nation I'm having a hard time bringing a Mizzou fan out with us but I think I can make it the week without bringing last year's game up, I said: I think!

So, with my long time friend Ben, new found best hunting buddy Rich and our friend Gary in tow this looks to be an exciting week out west. The motel reservations are set, the trip out and back is planned down to the hour I need to leave. The rifle is cleaned and oiled and readied for a trip to the range and the scope is centered and bore sighted to a street light about a half mile away.

Yet another fall season, yet another opportunity and yet another story to soon share with my friends.

Now that's Remington Country!

It's what I dream of at night!

It will start out early in the year as an innocent desire to hunt whitetails in the great north woods. it will end with a smile and a memory. The day you write out the deposit check and send it off to the outfitter seems like years before the season opener, yet it goes by in a flash.

I remember searching my computer for my packing list for a rifle hunt, once found I query as to why I have so many things on the list. By the time I've gone through my gear and hunting clothing I've found a bunch of things I'll need that weren't even on the list. As I shuffle through my office guiding through the piles of clothes, boots, ammo and more clothes I begin to think that somewhere along the line I must have went crazy and nobody told me.

The date comes to send off your rifle customs form, you get ready pen in hand and then mull over which rifle it will be. I do it in my own fashion, which rifle has yet to be successful on a hunt and that's the one. Write out a check, attach the form and put it in a envelope, seems easy enough.

About 30 days later you get a letter from Customs that your form has been accepted and your all but there. I have some quirks when it comes to hunting, for some reason I need to leave a day or two earlier than I really need too. I don't know maybe it's my former military service or my desire to get there. I often stay at the motel located at the airport just so I can catch an early flight out. The night isn't sleepless though, you just can't call the 30 or so minutes you'll get-sleepless!

The alarm clock rings as does the phone and like a shot your showered, dressed and waiting in the lobby, I'm not sure why I get to the lobby two hours before my shuttle, it's boring sitting there. Onto the shuttle and it's off to the check-in counter.

Hunting Canada entails passing through customs on each trip there and back. I personally fly out of Newark airport, directly to Minneapolis and then on to Saskatoon. You don't hit customs until you get to Saskatoon and it's about a 15 minute inconvenience should you get picked for inspection. Out of the airport and into the motel shuttle.

Its somehow comforting when you set your rifle and gear down on your motel room floor and take a deep breath, you've arrived. For the most part you'll either be picked up at the airport by the outfitter or in my case the first one's in pick up the rental SUV's and take them to the motel. In the morning other hunters meet you in the lobby and you load up the gear, divvy up the seats and your off for a 5 1/2 hour ride north.

I'm not an unsociable man but somehow the ride is a time of reflection and solitude for me. I just like to sit and look out the window at the miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles. The occasional deer or wolf in the distance or crossing the road ahead. The distinct chill of the northern air and the feeling that your slowly putting miles between yourself and civilization as you know it. Once you arrive in camp it all seems to go so fast: get to your assigned bunks, confirm your sights, get a meal and begin to talk smack about past hunts.

After dinner the outfitter goes over the rules and fills out the licenses. Tag in hand and guide assigned your all but sitting in your stand, only a nights sleep between now and then. 5am comes early and the trucks are already gassed and running. The guides are chomping at the bit and ready to go. While you put on your hunting clothes you'll open the door to let some cool air in so you don't sweat in the layers. Your rifle sits outside the door so the optics get chilled and clear up. Ammo clinking in your pocket. A quick breakfast, a lunch bag and your off to the stands.

It's hard to realize that once you climb into your tree or ground blind that your finally there. Months and months of preparation, planning and of course-dreaming; and your finally there.

As the sun breaks through the trees the deer have already shown themselves and are milling around your stand. You can hardly breath as the does and bucks just seem to come and go all day. I don't know if it's the chill in the air, knowing that I'm miles from any human being or that just realizing I'm hunting in Canada that takes my breath away, it's like asthma.....you actually have to make yourself breath!

Hunting in Canada is a 15 second event. From the moment you identify your target, engage and harvest, your entire year had come down to that 15 seconds. I can't tell you how hard it is to sit on stand waiting for your guide to arrive. Your harvest is a mere 100 yards or less away and you can't go see. Funny how your mind plays games with you during that time: It's a 12 point, maybe a 10, probably an 8! Then you think to yourself, good God I hope a bigger one doesn't come walking out!

It's back to the camp, harvest in hand, an opportunity to share stories. I've posted my last Canadian buck on the front page of this blog. I sit most days and smile at the opportunity, the memories and the harvest. It's as if it were yesterday. Whether you take a shot or not, it's a trip of a lifetime.

Yes, there's something about the great north woods for those of us who seldom see beyond the concrete and steel. the paved roads are miles south of your location and most deer you come into contact with have probably never seen another human. It's the kind of wilderness that Teddy Roosevelt would write about, protect and enjoy. Miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles, that's what the great north woods are, miles and miles of the very thing that hunters dream about: big deer, cold days and sleepless nights.

It's what I dream of at night!

Fathers and Mentors

As with most northeasters we woke up to about a foot so snow this morning, there's another foot on it's way. I can't say that it's Richard Proenneke kind of snow, but it's a blizzard for New Jersey. First Things First: the dog has a trail to follow to her favorite early morning spot.

I sat down this morning wondering what today would bring. It's my intention to sit and relax, not much to do with the snow still falling. Nanny and Poppy have groceries enough to last a few days, there's no construction going on due to the weekend: and snow. My money says that Wendy will come up with something. In my opinion it's a good day to sit and enjoy my custom arrows and Leon Stewart bow, not sure that would be Wendy's opinion.

I often think of my father on days like this, wearing his bib Carhart overalls with Remington 1100 in hand on his the way to the truck. I'm sure that a duck or a pheasant could be found if one looked just a bit. Headed into town for some gas and milk, mostly just to sit at the diner and visit with the others. Who are the others you ask? There's a whole lot of folk just like my dad in central Nebraska, no surprises there. Put on the coffee and they will come!

I take great care in my thinking when it comes to nostalgia. Proper memory is needed to truly feel the days of yore. Standing in the driveway waiting for dad to unlock the door of his Ford Bronco so I could mount up and head out for some looking. I'm not sure what others were doing however on snowy days like this I spent most of my time looking and very little time actually hunting.

I still find time for some "looking". There's nothing more fulfilling to me than taking a ride in the country, as country as New Jersey gets, and just looking to see what I can see. A time to reminisce I guess, to relive that which can not be relived.

Lately I've spent some time talking to some High School friends and acquaintances on Facebook. Some will read this post possibly so I'll apologize up front, nothing is meant by my following statement; I'm not sure that it's been all that good for me to have went back in time via the Internet like that. People that I remember don't have a clue who I am, others remember me in ways, well, I'd rather not be remembered in. Old memories have surfaced, mostly good, a few well let's just call them memories. I think to some point that it has only strengthened my feelings about not being able to go back.

There is one person of note that I'm going to mention outright: Don McKee. Mr. McKee as I will always know him was my science teacher in Jr. High. You would think that in a small town like Overton Nebraska the need or desire to learn Science would be near the bottom of the learning priority list and the mere meaning of the word "why". Why would you worry about Science in a small farming community where the focus is on crops and will it be a good or bad year? Mr McKee transcends all of that, a firm hand and an open heart! All that I would want to be when I grow up.

Teachers most often stand out for what they do outside of curriculum. Mr McKee was no different. Although I've only graced his door infrequently, combined with being one of the lesser Science students you could conger up, I was welcome when I did appear! There has been no less than a thousand times that I thought of him while amidst a tough time or decision over the years. A lasting impression to say the least!

For all that my father did wrong, for all that he lacked in not being able to fulfill my selfish desires, for all that I can fault him for should I choose to inventory said things; I could just never thank my father enough for having raised me in Overton Nebraska. The gifts that often go unseen are there for the taking. It sometimes takes years for us to see them. Don McKee was one of those gifts. I'll forever remember you: Don McKee.

Nostalgia is a double edged sword to say the least. Remembering is a good thing at my age, but it's certain memories that I sometimes wish would go away.

I do so long for the simpler times, a time when I could walk 3 miles into town and no one ever mentioned or worried about a stranger and the harm that one could bring. Doors were left open on warm summer days, pickup windows down with rifles in the back window gun racks. Kids laughing, few crying. There were no doubt worries and strains, tears behind closed doors however there were more mentors then there were bothered children. There seems to always be an adult near by that one could find comfort with.

As I look back I find the very examples of what I'd like to be when I grow up however mostly I'm just thankful that they were there. To all who would teach: teach not to a grade but to a life, for each child will grow one day to be someone and your someone too! To Don McKee I say "Thank You", thank you for making me feel welcome in your world even today, from a scraggly little runt of a kid in small town USA.

To my father who dawned not a book nor a classroom your lessons of life have gotten me through! A rough road at times however never has there been a bump or mountain that I couldn't get over. May God Bless, more than he already has!

God's been good to me!

It's been a while since I sat down to write, mostly because hunting season is over and the weather still shows remnants of winter, who am I kidding...It's cold!

It's hard to extend feelings and aspirations about hunting without making it yet another story about the long shot or the buck of a lifetime. Hunting is a much deeper thing than that to me. It seems that there's something missing this time of year, oh, the hopes for the upcoming season, planning and dreaming are in full tilt but still there's a sort of emptiness when I look at my mounts, guns and equipment. Time spent alone at the computer at night researching seems to be all for not, yet I keep typing, entering and deleting.

Recently I've come into contact with a few of my old schoolmates. Most from grade school and into Jr. High. Some with good memories others with, well, I was young. All in all they are a large part of my growing up in the heartland and the memories have come flooding in. One of the things that I noted today is that out in farm country all of the kids jump on the bus and go home at the end of the day. I never realized how lonesome it could get. To have the hustle and bustle of a day come to a close with some play time and no ones around.

Funny thing middle America, It's all that we should be yet you have to grow up fast. As noted in an earlier blog the buck I harvested in Nebraska is at the taxidermist, I'm looking forward to some news in the near future. It takes about 6-8 months to get them back so it's sort of like opening a Christmas present, you kind of forget what it looked like and you anticipate the joy.

This year comes with yet another present, the new three (3) piece custom Leon Stewart bow will be done in early April. Having ordered two (2) sets of limbs it's actually two bows in one! So much to look forward to this year. Rich and I have decided to take it easy this fall, only one trip in the plans, and yes: it's Nebraska! The focus this fall isn't on wall hangers as much as on multiple species. Some upland game, waterfowl and deer hunting will be the order of the day and so on we go. The duck and goose decoys will no doubt be in tow as will the waders and brush pants. Oh so much to pack and so little time..lol.

I'm not quite sure how this fall will pan out for hunting. Nanny and Poppy are coming to live with us in a few weeks once the construction is finalized. Nanny is in or at least getting into the advanced stages of Alzheimer's. It isn't going to be easy. But then: what would you do in my shoes? God has been good to me over the later years of my life, between the memories of past and the Blessings of late I've come to know a life that for the most part has only been dreamed of. It seems that he has a plan, I'll follow!

Tonight I sit in New Jersey but my mind is afield in Nebraska. A mental break was needed and I took it, all the way out west! For once in my life cleaning a rifle, smelling Rem Oil and watching hunting shows can't cover the reality of whats to soon come.

I said earlier that I'm not sure if I was Blessed for having my childhood or cursed for having the memories, the memories may be all I have this fall, I'm glad I have them!

There is a great sense of accomplishment in a successful ethical hunt, there is a greater sense of accomplishment in helping another, and help Poppy and Nanny I will! For one of the first times in my life I actually feel like a responsible adult. It wasn't that long ago that my life would have been all about me and the challenge of helping in-laws wouldn't have been an option.

I'll have to make the call this fall as to whether it's more important for me to hunt of stay home and assist. Either will be fine with me! That's how I can say: God's been good to me!

January winds

Seems like it was yesterday that I was sitting atop a sandhill watching my hunting buddies across the valley. Suddenly, just like that: it's January and the Holidays are over. I find little comfort in the January winds however Nebraskaland magazine in hand I'll find some time to reflect I'm sure. This is the worst part of the year for me, hunting is all but over, the Internet hunting stores are having some slamming sales and I have a list of things that I wish I would have had for the fall hunts. I won't say it's not fun purchasing equipment and then anxiously awaiting the arrival of the UPS truck. It's just not that fun when the bill comes due and I spend 20 minutes asking myself if I really needed this or should I have purchased something else. Thats the issue with the January winds! I decided that for the most part I'm going to stabilize my arrow supply. Having purchased my first longbow late last year I spent a lot of time and money trying to find the arrow that my bow likes the best: Beman ICS Bowhunters seem to fit the bill. With my traditional archery stash soon to include bows set to 45, 50, 55 and 60 pounds I find myself caught between the performance of the 400's vs the 500's. So I did what any self respecting guy with a credit card would do: I ordered both! I seem to be spending quite a bit of time this January (keeping in mind it's only the 3rd of January) engaged in a search for my 2010 fall hunts. No doubt Rich and I will head to Iowa as planned however I'm torn as to my second hunt. Saskatchewan is calling, Nebraska is beckoning and my drive to harvest a wall hanger is on. But first.......... There will be a change this year, we've invited Poppy and Nanny to come live with us. They are getting up there in years: 85 and 84 respectively, and they need a little help. There aren't many things that I'll put in front of a chance to be where the deer live with the exception of Nanny and Poppy! Frankly I'm gearing up for a "put it on hold" year until I realize the full extent of the upcoming change. Construction is planned and the process of transition has begun. I kind of see it all as a chance to spend time with my father in law and make his final years as comfortable as I can; I'm looking forward to it. It's funny how no matter how much hunting you get to do it never seems to be enough, yet I somehow feel so satisfied the minute that I'm on stand for the first day of the hunt. Being limited to one hunt this fall is not an appealing process for me, I've wasted oh so many years living in the heart of Whitetail country and didn't even hunt them for the most part. Now that I'm older I'm finding it hard to relive or for that matter even catch up with the memory's of my childhood. That's what I think I'll use most when I'm 85, the memory of days afield and the successes as well as the failures. I have time for Poppy and I have time to hunt, for right now: Poppy is more important! I'll one day have a windy January and know that it may be my last and I'd sure like to have someone to talk to while I go through it and I'm sure that Poppy will too!

Nebraska: I bow to you in reverance

I find it pleasing to be sitting in my hotel room with my pending arrival home set for tomorrow morning. Like many of you I'm worn out from all things hunting over the past several weeks. The Rut for the most part is over and I'm as beat as the bucks who've survived the season.

After our 5 1/2 day archery trip in Ohio my friend Rich and I set out for Nebraska, 9 days to hunt however 8 days were about 5 to many. A sort of success came early as I tagged a lesser buck on opening morning followed by a focus on getting Rich his first Mulie Buck. That was a success as well. All in all I'd say it was a great trip.

Our mornings came early as there was much travel to do just to arrive at our hunting locations. About half of the week was spent on public land and the other on either of two small ranches that we hunt. My buck (attached) was harvested on public land. There was an air of uncertainty for me on this trip, I just couldn't shake the feeling that this may be the last trip to what I call my home for a fall hunt. It has all changed and yet stayed so hauntingly familiar. I cherish my memories and often remember and relive those I've forgotten as we travel from one place to another. Every building, every road and every person seems to have a past point in time where I shared something special. It's like that: hunting. Once you've been to a blind or tree stand for the first time, the second seems like you've been there for ever.

I don't claim that anyone can travel to Nebraska, hunt and then share my feelings, they are deep rooted in what was and what will be. Being raised in and yet somehow taking for granted an area like the Platte River Bottom can make a man prideful and complete and just as fast: lonely and distant. I miss the area as it was and I long for the days that have been.

We hooked up with an old friend of mine, Ben. We met opening morning along a road and headed down to the dock to load his boat in the reservoir we were to hunt that day. I remember the chill in the air and how it made the boat spray feel like ice chips. The sun was somewhere over Iowa and heading our way but hadn't quite fully committed to assisting us. Three grown men, an aluminum boat and a much too small motor plowing along at warp -3 speed. If we'd gone any slower we still wouldn't be there. The chill was on, the deer were moving and we were finally hunting once again. I'll not go into details as this blog is more about the things we miss then the things we get, moments shared in quiet solitude in a vast state.

Imagine if you will a morning, just about day break with the sound of ducks whistling overhead. In the distance a flock of Canadian Geese sound off as if to let everyone know they are coming. The anticipation of the mornings hunt, the inconvenience of the preparation work and the thoughts of massive antlers and big bodied deer being overruled by the cold. It's Nebraska, the corn is still being picked, the soybeans are all but harvested and the hay fields look like lawns. As my brother once described it: miles and miles of nothing but miles and miles! Thousands of hunters out on opening day and we saw about 10 of them.

With 4 of our 5 deer harvested we were in combat mode, Rich and Ben left no tree unexplored, no valley unreached and no hilltop not looked from. I have to say that they did their leg work on this trip! I took a picture of Rich atop a Nebraskan sand hill and promptly named it: Rich's Happy Place, if you look closely you'll see some Fluorescent Orange in the top center of the picture.

Being a retired military guy I've traveled a bit in my life. I've had opportunity to hunt in many of our great states, 13 in all. I love Iowa, Oklahoma and Texas however they don't possess that which possesses me: my home. Nebraska is a funny sort, she demands you hunt ethically and yet begs you through opportunity to do that which isn't allowed. She talks to your conscience while afield, temps your every desire and taunts you with the strange and unusual: how many of you have stood staring at a porcupine sleeping sprawled out on a limb? Shoot a buck, watch a badger, now that's hunting! The people there are friendly, down to earth and ready to lend a helping hand; but not until you've tried to help yourself!

I can see it all leaving, it's changing slowly but surely, one of the ranches I hunt will be set up for guided hunts starting next fall, the draw of money has finally gotten to what I call the last great frontier. Commercialism once again will erase all that was and soon a deer will be harvested by those with the financial means and not by those who would appreciate all that it is.

To that point I say: Thank You Nebraska, for all that you've given me over the years. I tip my hat to you and your people. I bow to you in reverence and I weep for your tomorrow.