An opinion on gun control

If you have a gun in your house and put a lot of stock in your 2nd Amendment rights, you need to take a half-hour and read this article. This article spells out exactly how I feel, plus it's written much better and is based on much more knowledge and experience than I'll every acquire. Larry Correia put a lot of time, thought and effort into this essay, and we as gun owners should be thankful for his efforts to help defend our position from the left.

Some of our friends on the left may be able to read this with an open mind, but I can guarantee that most rat-bastard liberals will read the first paragraph and likely close the window. Why? Let's face it... liberals hate arguments based on facts and logic, and this article is chock full of 'em.

Do yourself a favor and read it, share it, and read it again.

Merry Christmas, y'all

It was indeed a white Christmas here in south central PA, and was a lovely day overall.

May you and your families all have peace and happiness this Christmas evenin'.

Friday Grind

I'm really diggin' on this song right now. Hopefully the radio stations don't play it out like they do all the other decent new shit that pops up every now and then.

On a side note, I'm pretty sure that everything that Corey Taylor his infinitely badass.

From 2012's House of Gold and Bones, Part 1.

Bone soup

Last minute success

With just two hours of daylight left on the last day of the gun season, Joe and I were pushin' out some cover for Joe's buddy Batts, who had yet to fill his buck tag. We were awful happy to hear those gunshots ringin' out ahead of us on our third push, and even happier when Batts hollered out that he'd hit a nice buck.

There was considerable confusion when we got the deer though... turns out, when you try to shove a .243 bullet through a deer's ears, the horns pop off. He hit the buck hard on the first shot, and was shootin' through some pretty tight cover on the two follow-up shots. Only thing we can figure is the bullet musta skipped off a sapling or somethin' and redirected itself right into the think-tank... Boom, headshot. Since it's only Batts' second buck, and a helluva nice one at that, he's gettin' it stuffed, so the taxidermist should be able to fix that for him. T'was a helluva nice way to end a very successful season.

He held the bones in place for a decent picture.

Over the summer, I was thrilled when a brute of a buck showed up on my trail camera upstate. Upon closer inspection, my little brother noticed what he thought was a droptine, and after drinkin' a few more beers and lookin' at the pic way too many times, he had me convinced.

Unfortunately for us, another lucky hunter confirmed the droptine for us on the third day of the season. I was hopin' he'd make it through for us to chase again next year, but oh well. Hopefully, he spent most of November bangin' lots of does and spreadin' his seed around. He was pretty much a once-in-a-lifetime buck.

We do have an ace in the hole, however... the neighbor to the land we hunt up there shared a trail camera picture of another deer with very similar characteristics, including a lengthy droptine. As far as we know, that buck made it through unscathed.

Hello, Mad Elf...

...We meet again.

Big bucks

If you was a brown, four-legged woodland creature around Spring Hill, PA on Monday, you had a bad friggin' day.

Ron, Joe and I all punched our doe tags in the mornin'. Ron saw 19 deer in the mornin', and finally took a big ol' doe with a well-placed shot from his 7mm Short Mag. I broke in my M91/30 Mosin Nagant at first light, and Joe made a beautiful 140-yard shot on a runnin' doe with my Winchester 94 open-sight 30-30. That little shit is the only one lucky enough to put a .30" projectile straight through the top of the heart under those circumstances, but I digress.

Ron decided he hadn't had enough, so he went out in the afternoon and put the smack-down on a big ol' eight-point.

Not to be outdone, Ron's brother Jimmy decided to one-up all of us and whacked a beast of a nine-point on Tuesday, easily taking sole control of the buck pool. The brute had an inside spread of over 19".

A few years back, the PA Game Commission implemented antler restrictions and undertook some pretty drastic policy changes aimed at improvin' herd quality and habitat. I personally ain't about to argue with wildlife biologists, but you shoulda heard all the bitchin' when the new rules were first laid out. There was a lotta gripin' back then, but there seems to be less and less each year as everyone starts gettin' a chance at bigger bucks. Our camp has brought in some of our best bucks in just the last few years, and you'll get no gripin' from us.

Into Week 2

As we're relaxin' here at camp, we're takin' a page from CenTexTim... football on the TV, feet up, bellies full of Shiner and red meat. Or, at least, that's what I hope he's doin'.

We had a pretty borin' day yesterday in the deer woods. Cousin Nate whacked a big ol' doe, but aside from that, not too many of us had much of a chance. Hell, I only saw one deer all day, and that one was 700 yards away, bookin' it across a field. Seems like the neighbors that spend most of the day drivin' out the local woodlots took special pains to drive around and away from us, which sucked for us since we set up specifically to pot-hunt offa those drives.

No worries, though... most of us have ample meat in the freezer already, and since Joe and I have our buck tags filled, we're just tryin' to help out the local farmers by thinnin' the doe population. We'll get into 'em tomorrow.

I hadn't gotten around to postin' pics yet, but Uncle Bill and one of our local friends up here both took nice buck in last Tuesday's snow. Hopefully a few more folks will score here in the second week.

Uncle Bill, two of my cousins and the landowner with
Bill's second day 8-point.

Our friend and neighbor Bryn with his Spring
Hill 10-point.

Scoped. Again.

Second deer with my inline this year, and second banged-up brow. Reckon I might have to fuss with the eye relief durin' the off-season.

A very successful buck opener

Not so much for me, as I decided to sleep in. I was on stand by 10:30 this morning, but didn't see a deer. Not really that surprising down here, and all things considered, I had a helluva relaxin' day.

Of course, I couldn't really catch much of a nap due to my phone blowin' up every three seconds with pictures from my friends and family. There was a lotta bucks hittin' the dirt today, and I'm very proud of my friends, family, and specifically my ol' man. I'll let the pictures do the talkin'....

The ol' man with his Bradford County 8-point

My buddy Mike's ol' man whacked this
Adams County 9-point.

Tater dropped this pig in Fulton County this mornin'... helluva buck!

23" inside spread, 24" beams... green scored at 141".

And a very successful day down home at the farm I help out at. I'm lookin' forward to huntin' with everyone down there in two weeks.

One of the neighbors with a nice 7-point

Uncle John connected on this 8-point from his deck.

My second cousin Tyler dropped this big 8-point, one of the
biggest buck to come off the farm.

I honestly don't give a damn if I don't see a deer on this trip. The ol' man connected, and I'm happy to share in the success of my friends and family. That's all I really need this time of year.

Deer Eve

I'd like to formally welcome y'all to the most wonderful time of the year. Regardless of what retailers try to shove down your throat, there's absolutely nothin' finer than the Monday after Thanksgiving for us Pennsyltuckians.

As much as I love to archery hunt, there's just somethin' special about the first day of the PA Buck season; the huntin' itself is eclipsed by the trip to camp and the camaraderie shared with family and close friends. Last year, my friend over on the Main Line painted perhaps the best picture of it that I've read, and I encourage y'all to give it a read, as I just did (again).

That said, havin' my PA buck tag already filled throws a wrench into joinin' everyone upstate at Ron's for his annual Deer Eve festivities. I could have gone up and been camp bitch or bear hunted like Joe chose to do, but I decided to get some much needed solitude and mental health by headin' down to Maryland's Eastern Shore to try to whack a deer or two. Some good family friends have a retreat home on 11 acres that they graciously allow us to stay at and hunt at our leisure, with a manageable lease payment of a case or two of Natty Lite, a bag of Martin's Kettle-Cooked potato chips and some Reese's cups.

We've never seen a vast number of deer down here, but we've all killed our fair share and have made some fond memories down here. Jesse took his first buck from what we call the Kid's Stand, and Dad has taken two exceptional bucks, one from the Kid's Stand and the other from a gem that we call the Death Trap. Joe's second (or third?) buck came from a ladder stand set up near the Death Trap. I've only ever got one shot at a buck down here, and managed to shank that one due to rushin' the shot with an unfamiliar gun. Hopefully I'll be able to make amends sometime this week and put my first Maryland buck on the ground. I reckon a big doe doesn't want to walk by either since we can shoot whatever we want down here.

It never hurts when the property owners find stuff like this layin' around in the field next to the house...

On that note, it's time to get my shit together for the mornin' and head to bed. To everyone else that's headed out in the mornin', good luck to y'all.

Centre County bruins

Last Sunday found me en route to Centre County for my annual trek to chase the bear. Dad had hunted with the group on Saturday and had to be home on Sunday, so I was the lone family representative for Monday's hunt.

About 30 minutes into our openin' drive, three shots rang out in front of me as I stood in wait of the drivers movin' ahead of me. The drive stalled, and cousin Randy left his post above mine and headed down the hill to join me. After a few anxious minutes of tryin' to unscramble the radio traffic and strainin' our ears to decipher all the hollerin' goin' on a few hundred yards away, we finally heard the words we were waitin' for... "Bear down!"

Congratulations to Smally on his first bear. It's always nice to get that icin' on the cake, especially when I only get one day to hunt 'em a year.

Ducks and days to remember

I've been huntin' ducks for a long, long time and have piled up a few of 'em over the years, but I've never had two days of duck huntin' quite like the last few days.

Wade gave me a call a few days ago, wonderin' what I was doin' on Friday. Well, it'd been almost two years since I dropped the hammer on a quacker, so I figured it'd be in my best interest to go smack a few ducks with a good buddy. A plan was struck for Friday, but after a scoutin' mission on Wednesday evenin', he called me up and convinced me that Thursday was the day to be there.

Me 'n Tater with Thursday's harvest.

Thursday mornin', with the help of two other gentleman that showed up at the pond, we rather quickly and easily filled a four-man limit. With the ducks rainin' down at first light, it was damn near difficult to keep shells in the gun. We finally had to stop shootin' just so we could take stock of what we had. It was incredible... we were out in the middle of the pond fetchin' ducks and had piles of 'em swarmin' around, with a few even droppin' into the decoys briefly. After the feathers had finally settled, we had 19 ducks in the first half-hour of shootin' light. Cooler still, we had four different species of ducks, includin' mallards, shovelers, teal, and one other oddball hen that we couldn't readily identify. We had a few more scattered ducks show up over the course of the next few hours to help us get to our limit of 24 ducks.

Wade and I were back at it again on Friday mornin', and although we didn't have near the insanity we had at first light the day before, we had plenty of excitement and consistent shootin'.

A little back story here... over the summer, our buddy Matt had picked up a few gun raffle tickets for all of us, and a good day was had by all as we ate, drank and enjoyed doin' nothin' for most of the day. As luck would have it though, one of the tickets he'd picked up for me was the first one to hit, and I became the owner of somethin' that I'd have never bought for myself. Matt broke the cherry on her bustin' some clay birds while we were upstate, but I hadn't gotten around to chasin' any critters with it. That bein' the case, I decided that it needed a proper introduction to the huntin' world.

The first group of ducks that came in Friday mornin' was a group of four teal, and the very first shot outta the Citori dropped a beautiful drake green-winged teal in full plumage... an absolutely beautiful duck. Once we had all of 'em anchored, we discovered that all four of 'em were drakes. Talk about a special memory with a great friend.

Wade and I promptly decided that a trip to the taxidermist was in order for both of us, as one of the ones that he'd dropped was also in full plumage.



By the time I left about 10:30, we had 10 ducks in the bag, includin' another shoveler and a handful of mallards. Wade decided to stay for the day, as another friend of his was thinkin' about joinin' him in the afternoon. I still haven't talked to him to see how the rest of the day went for him, but he did send me a picture of a beautiful drake wood duck that didn't escape his Super Vinci. Given that we both consider the drake woodie to be one of the most beautiful birds in the world, it wouldn't surprise me in the least if his taxidermy bill doubled once he got that.

One thing that surprised me... we bagged five shovelers and saw at least twice that, but we never saw a drake. I didn't realize that they were that prevalent in our area, but what we saw the last few days certain goes against that train of though.

I am forever indebted to Wade for invitin' me along... it'll be real tough to top a pair of huntin' days like that.

Wednesday Grind

What's better than a good live song? A whole frikkin' bunch of live songs.

Filmed live on 23 January, 1991 in Brazil.

Horns Up!   \m/     \m/

Bowhunter's Weekend and some geese

I've been tryin' to post this for most of the week, but keep findin' myself with my hands in other cookie jars. I've also been tryin' to steer clear of the interwebs due to the vast amount of hellfire and brimstone related to the farce that was Tuesday's presidential election. I'll limit my personal observation to one of my favorite Denny-isms: "BOHICA!"

But on to more entertainin' subjects, like our awesome weekend upstate.

I swear to God that my little brother is the luckiest bastard on the face of the earth. Friday afternoon, I left him 300 yards from his spot with ladder steps, a hang-on stand and his bow at about 1:15pm. By five after two, the little bastard was on the phone with the ol' man, requestin' help for trackin'. After a whoppin' five minutes on stand, a big ol' brute strolled by lookin' for a doe to bang, and wound up with a 100-grain Muzzy takin' off the top of his heart instead. He was a fat booger, too... weighed in at 180 pounds field dressed, which is around 230 pounds live weight. That's a big ol' boy just about anywhere south of Canada.

After Schlongie and I gave him a hand with trackin', guttin' and draggin', I headed out to another part of the same property. Wandered up onto some turkeys, and after a half-hour wait managed to shank a 20-yard shot through a small gap in a blowdown. Busted my arrow in half in the process too, damnit.

I kept goin' to where I wanted to set up, only to find deer already in the field about where I wanted to be. I was surrounded by deer sign where I stood though, and since I couldn't think of anything more intelligent to do I just planted my arse at the base of a nearby tree.

About a half hour later, I was happily allowin' my mind to wander when a six-point magically appeared a mere 10 yards away. As soon as he went behind a tree, I drew, and as soon as his vitals hit my red pin on the other side of the tree, the arrow was on it's way. I called up and got Joe headin' my way, since it was gettin' dark. Thankfully, it didn't take long to find the buck, as he only went about 80 yards. Total time from initially seein' the buck to him pilin' up... less than a minute.

Ron wrapped up our success for the weekend by whackin' a jenny hen the next mornin'. Anytime he can take away some competition for the gobblers in the spring, he's a happy guy.

Needless to say, we spent the better part of the weekend with good company, eatin' very well and dousin' ourselves with various spirits. If anybody leaves Ron's place hungry, it is most certainly their own damn fault.

Joe's stuffed venison tenderloin. I guess he's good
for something after all.

A light showin' this year but still a great time!

That lucky bastard.

Our buddy Dave, who's usually with us up there for Bowhunter's Weekend, couldn't make it up this year. He did manage some time in the woods at home though, and wound up punchin' his tag on a nice buck of his own.

Back on the home front last night, we managed to get into the geese a bit. It's been awhile since I've been in on a good shoot, and it had the added bonus of being on one of my favorite ponds. We used to pound the piss outta geese on this pond back in the day, but it's been several years since we've even set it up. Of course, we set it up tonight with a few extra guns, but didn't see a damn thing. That's okay though... after cleanin' geese last night and finishin' the butcherin' on our bucks today, Joe and I didn't feel like cuttin' up anymore meat.

On that note, this is a rather long-winded post for me, and I'd rather be fallin' asleep in front of the VA Tech-FSU game. Y'all have a good night.

Friday Honky Tonk

After two and a half days of hard, fruitless huntin' in the rain and cold and half a dozen Lagers, I've decided that tomorrow mornin' will be a phenomenal time to sleep in. I will wake up whenever I damn well feel like it, then either pot hunt Ron's "pet" deer behind camp or sniper some of the local turkeys with the ol' .223. Fuck, maybe I'll keep drinkin' beer and catch up on some of my readin'. I'm on vacation, damnit.

In the meantime, I'll play this in honor of my big brother, who took in his monthly allotment of country music with this song on the way up to camp tonight. I ain't much for this newfangled "country" music, but I reckon it'll do for now.

So long, MDF

Long story short, that cocksucker boss that I worked for at Mason Dixon finally pushed me over the edge, so I put my two weeks in a few weeks back. Frankly, I was gettin' sick of drinkin' every night to keep from killin' him the next mornin', so all in all it was probably a good decision. I'll just have to pinch the purse strings a little tighter for a few weeks until I get in somewhere else.

I gotta tell ya... I'm a workin' man and have held a lot of jobs over the course of my existence. I've had good bosses and bad bosses. That bastard was hands-down the worst ever, and the turnaround at that farm shows it. I was one of seven people that have held down that position over the last three years. Several other positions on that farm that are under his watch show the similar results. Hell, my ol' man worked for him 35 years ago and said he was pretty much a dickhead then, too, so I can't say I wasn't warned.

But enough ventin' about that waste of oxygen.

This comin' weekend is our annual Bowhunter's Weekend upstate. It's always a fantastic time with great friends, although it'll be hard to duplicate our success from last year. Since Joe is currently unemployed at the moment, we decided it'd be a fantastic idea to head up in the middle of a hurricane to get there nice and early and get a few extra huntin' days in before everyone else gets here.

We're kinda relaxin' here this mornin', but as soon as this weather is outta here, we'll be hittin' the woods. The deer were showin' signs of ruttin' activity before the storm got here, and once the conditions improve, they're gonna explode.

I'll keep ya posted.

From timber to table

It takes a few hours for this ol' boy, but the reward at the end is worth every second.

Whacked me a mature doe with the inline the other day on a stupidly easy hunt, and got the rest of 'er in my belly and freezer today. Reckon it's time to go git another'n.

That ol' Traditions .50 cal does a number on 'em. With 120 grains of Triple Seven pushin' a Barnes Spitfire T-MZ 250-grain sabot, they usually don't take another step. Carryin' that gun's damn near cheatin, but I like to whack one with it every now and then.

Kid whacks a doe

Funny story about this, actually.



Most days after work, I swing past one of the farm fields and take a peek with the binoculars and see what the deer are doin'.

So tonight, I have the binos out and I'm watchin' the deer as usual, completely unaware that someone other than the deer were watchin' me in return. About five minutes into this, I hear this dull thud, and suddenly there's deer goin' everywhere. As I'm tryin' to figure out what in the hell spooked 'em, my phone rings...  it's the Kid. "Didja see me just centerpunch that ol' mammy doe?!?"

Well... reckon that explained the deer spookin'. Good job, little brother.

Wednesday Grind

You mighta noticed that I've been attemptin' to post a little more often. For the time bein', I found a loophole that allows me wireless internet through my phone without payin' AT&T's rifuckindiculous $20 charge for teatherin'. They might catch on and start chargin' me.... they might not. Fuck 'em either way.

In the interim, I will enjoy bein' able to use real internet from my couch for the first time since February.

So, now to the good shit...

Pretty sure I've posted this at least once, but it's worth postin' again. Rock out and enjoy.

Recorded live on 5 December, 2008 in Alberta, Canada. As per the original poster, the first documented live performance of this song.

LUCK.... RUNS..... OUT........

DIY European antler mount

With the fall archery season in full swing and my buddies layin' over bucks left and right, I decided to post an e-mail I sent to a friend of mine last year describin' my process for a European-style skull mount. Hopefully it'll help some of y'all...

First thing's first, the info that I give you is my preferred method that has served me well for dozens of skulls. If you peruse the internet, you'll find a lot of different methods for doing it. Just like anything else, some are better than others and you have to find the one that works for you.

One thing to keep in mind is you probably don't want to do this in the house if you can help it.... it gets kind of stinky. I used to use a camp stove... I now have an old kitchen stove that I can hook up to a propane tank out in the shop. Be prepared to take anywhere from three-five hours to do it.

First thing you must do is get as much of the crap off of the skull as humanly possible... not always a pleasant task. Start by skinning it out, then cut away as much of the meat you can get to. Once you have the meat trimmed away from the area behind the eye sockets, you should be able to coax the jawbone apart from the skull. Once that's done, it's a lot easier to get the eyes out as you can cut away the connecting tissue from underneath. Clean as much of that junk out as you can, and trim off the roof of the mouth if you are able (depends on how much it's dried out). If you have the stomach for it, bend a clothes hanger into a scoop and remove as much of the brain as you can get to. A very unpleasant task but it's easier to do it now than after it's cooked.

Once all that's done, I've let them set anywhere from a few hours to a few months... doesn't really matter. Sometimes it seems to clean easier fresh, other times it seems better to let it sit for awhile and let the remaining meat rot. Just don't let it set in direct sunlight as you'll discolor the antlers.

The night before I plan to clean it off, I take plastic wrap and electrical tape and seal off the antlers from the rest of the skull as best as I can. Don't skimp on the electrical tape and stretch it as tight as you can around the base of the antler. This will keep most of your water/chemical mix from reaching and discoloring the antler during the cleaning process. Once the antlers are sealed off, find a container and fill it with several tablespoons of dish soap (to cut through grease/fat) and top it off with hot water, then let the skull soak overnight.

Boiling a skull is a misnomer... the proper way to do it is to keep the pot to a simmer. Boiling will dry out the bone and cause a chipped appearance, and the teeth and nosepiece will likely fall out as well. If that happens, superglue does wonders.

I use an old cheap canning pot from Walmart. I fill up with several gallons of water, two tablespoons of dish soap and one quart of peroxide. I pre-heat the mixture and then place the skull in the pot, then top off with water until the water line is just equal to the base of the antler and all bone is covered. You'll need to add water every now and then as it evaporates. If the jawbone is relatively clean, I won't add it until later as it doesn't have as many nooks and crannies and doesn't take as long.

Let the skull simmer for about an hour. Your suds from the dish soap will likely boil up and over during this time... I keep an empty gallon ice cream jug or something similar to scoop the suds out as necessary.

After an hour, take the skull out and use a knife, tweezers and a stiff plastic-bristled brush to remove as much of the junk as possible. Scrape gently with the knife as you may scrape away some bone if not careful. Take extra time on the back of the skull where the neck joint attaches and the bottom where the jawbone attaches... there is a lot of fat and gristle build-up back there that will need scraped away with the knife. Don't worry about getting it all at once... you'll be repeating this process several times. Don't go crazy around the teeth either, as you'll want to let a little bit of fat there to hold them in place.

From there you'll want to remove and brush/scrape about every half hour or so. Add the jawbone somewhere in this time frame.

Once most of the junk has simmered off, dump your water mixture and start fresh. This time add your water, two quart bottles of peroxide and just one tablespoon of dish soap. Pick and scrape at the skull as the new batch heats up, then put it back in.

For this batch you'll want to remove and scrape about every 15-20 minutes until you feel it's done. The skull will not appear to be completely bleach white until it dries, so don't let a little discoloration throw you off. Once 99% of the junk is gone, consider it done. If you let it go too long, you'll have a similar drying and chipping effect as with boiling.

Once you feel it's done, remove the plastic wrap and electrical tape and spray everything down with cold water. Especially focus on the nasal area and brain cavity to flush any remaining junk out of them. After that, let it sit and dry for 24-48 hours, depending on the weather.

Once it has dried for several days, you will see exactly what you missed as any remaining fat begins to turn yellow. There are some people that will soak the skull in peroxide for a few hours after it dries... I personally have never tried this but it may work to alleviate this discoloration. There are many folks that will brush on paint or a liquefied bleach powder after it dries... I personally feel that this looks very unnatural, but feel free to try it based on how you want it to look when you're done.

It takes a few times to get it right, and even then it's still not a foolproof process. I've done enough of them at this point that most of them turn out the way I want them. I still have the occasional one that doesn't work out as well, but even then they usually still look very clean and presentable.

Wednesday Grind

Just for you, CharlieDelta. Rock the fuck out.

p.s. Lizzy's a local gal here in Central PA too. Always good to see the locals makin' it big.

I miss bloggin'

So I'm upstate unwindin' and half drunk, so what better than to throw a random blog post into things.

I'm currently at the family cottage, which I consider to be my happy place. I'm by myself, which is pretty nice. Styx's Grand Illusion is spinning on the record player, sandwiched between Steve Miller Band and Johnny Paycheck. I'm on my fourth (or is it fifth?) rum and coke. I've already had a fantastic weekend with some close friends, shootin' guns, discussin' life, plowin' through copious amounts of food and drinkin' heavily. This was a much-needed weekend for this guy.

Some things I've learned this weekend:
 - I really, really, really like guns
 - I need to take more time for myself
 - I really hate bitches that play head games
 - My family and friends mean more to me than life itself .

Some random pictures (and a fuckin' awesome video) from the weekend:

My first rum and coke of the weekend

As my buddy Tator said, "You can never have too much
of a good thing." We put a hurtin' on Ron's target this weekend.

A kick-ass dragonfly I found while we were pickiin'
up unbroken clay birds.

A little back story to the videos...

A few years ago, Matt, Tator and I decided to needed to see how quickly we could unload a pair of .380's. Well, back in February I picked up a Taurus Raging Bull .44, just like one Matt already had, and since then he's been up my ass to see how quickly we could unload a pair of 'em. Since we had a shitton of guns and ammo and were happily expendin' a bunch of it already this weekend, it seemed like a good weekend to do it,

Unloadin' 12 rounds of .44's has never been funner, although I took a lot of abuse for takin' a step back whilst shootin' em. In my defense, I unloaded 'em in about half the time that Tator and Matt took, and I was the first one to go. I didn't even know I got knocked back until I watch the playback. Better edited video of the three of us will come in a few weeks when I get my fingers on a Mac again. We have three different camera angles from all three of us shootin', so it should be pretty fun once I git it done.

Aight, well, the Grand Illusion has since kicked and I need to give Mr. Paycheck his turn on the turntable, so I reckon I'll wrap this up.

This drunken rant brought to you by Bacardi Superior Original Premium Rum and a work-free weekend. Thank God for spell check.

I'll be seein' ya.

Do not wake the bear...

...from his mid-mornin' nap in the turkey woods by runnin' past his head at less than three yards. Might getcha an enema of Remington Premium 5's.

Birthday beer

My girl is gettin' good at birthday presents. Reckon she's been takin' lessons from CenTexTim.

Matt does it again

Saturday was a good day for Matt... He found this ol' longbeard about 100 yards away from where he shot his first spring gobbler several years ago. He took a warm-up shot at a jake earlier in the mornin', so he was good and dialed in when two longbeards showed up a bit later. The bird weighed in at 22lbs with an 8-3/8" beard and 15/16" spurs. Intrepid Bear Track guides Scrawny and TJ keep him in line for a Kodak moment.

Dead turkeys and a rise from dormancy

I can't think of a better reason to bust out of my bloggin' funk than my favorite time of year... Spring Gobbler season. Still, I managed to put off any posts until I opened my e-mail yesterday and saw I got some hate mail from CenTexTim, demandin' to know that I was still alive. Of course, it helps to have a real computer at my fingertips for once, thanks to Jaclyn.

So, here I am... didja miss me?

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We're almost through the first week of spring gobbler season, and we've had a blast so far. I took my young buddy Daxton out on the youth hunt the week before, and although we weren't able to put the smack down on an ol' longbeard, we had several close calls and the lad had a good time, which was the overall goal.

Due to the joys of work, I managed to miss last Saturday's opener for the first time in my huntin' career. I gotta say, that was a pretty rough day and my head was definitely not on my work. Thankfully, Joe and Ron picked up the slack with a slammer gobbler and a jake, respectively.

Ron's Jake, no specs given
Joe's slammer longbeard - 22.5lbs, 11.5" beard, 1 3/8" spurs

When I got hired at the new job, I told my boss-to-be (who has turned out to be a first-class prick; more on that later) that I would be unavailable the first week of May. Amazingly, he honored that request, so I rolled into camp Monday evenin' after tendin' to some things around the house that needed done. I hunted two mornings with Wade with some decent action, but no real close calls. Dad and Cousin Danny came up Wednesday mornin', and Danny promptly put the smack-down on a jake.

Danny's Jake - 15lbs, 4.5" beard, 1/2" spurs

Yesterday, I went on a solo mission and was covered up with longbeards all day, and managed to miss a tough shot at a gobbler with the black-powder gun. Had I my regular baby with me, it woulda been a different result, but I'm bound and determined to whack one with that muzzleloader. Overall, we've seen lots of birds, had some pretty good action and heard a shit-ton of gobblin'... not to shabby of a vacation so far.

For the rest of my stay, I'll be behavin' as a guide... the fine folks from Bear Track Outfitters, hosts of our excellent Wyoming trip in October, decided to venture out and try their luck at some Pennsylvania spring gobblers. It'll be a fantastic time for sure, and hopefully I'll get my shit together and get some birds in front of our guests.

Oh, and I took this picture when Wade and I were traipsin' around the mountain yesterday... I thought it was kinda nifty, so I'll throw it on here for ya.

That's enough for now... I'll have access to a computer for the rest of the week, so I won't kill ya with a novel in one fell swoop. Besides, there's beer to be drank, food to be eaten and scoutin' for turkeys to be done.

Winterfest Pictures

Jaclyn and I wreckin' shop in the kitchen

There was a ton more food yet to show up...

One of our landowners, Jeff Smith with Ron.

What was left of my little brother Joe's excellent deer steak.
He might be an airhead, but he can cook.

Ron givin' out some door prizes.

Joe and Spangler followed the splittails all night. Whodathunkit?