Stay Low

I have received a new link from a professional photographer named Jeff Hunt. He is blogging out of South Carolina at Low Country Hunting. Jeff is blogging about photography, his hunting club, wild hogs and big whitetail bucks.
I think everyone is going to like his site. Hey, I'm going to link him right now!

My Diploma

I received my diploma today from my good friend
Bryan at Deer PHD. I guess this means that the shakes, fever sweat, loss of breath and overwhelming urge to pee in my pants when I see a big buck are cured.
I hope not.

His Hunting Skills Are Legendary

Mr. Jones, aka.. Old Scratch is a legend in hunting circles. In fact, his hunting skills are so well known far and wide that people avoid him like the plague during hunting season. It seems the only other person known to be this pitiful at hunting deer is Bill at Muskoka Outdoors.
Even as a small child Mr. Jones was a big disgrace to the Aborigine Race....

James' Overwhelming Buck

Needless to say there is a lesson in this story.
I have not written much about my brother James and stories involving him hunting with us, but now that his daughter, Victoria , is in school here; now is a good time.
My brother James was excited that morning when we got up to go hunting, we all were. The temperature had turned very cold, the ground was frozen and best of all the air was totally still. Not a breath of wind, and absolutely perfect for deer hunting. We scrambled into our hunting clothes after coffee and a light breakfast. We did not have much in the way of clothes then, so you put on as much as you could. We all looked like stuffed red snowmen that morning. James struggled and finally was able to put on everything that he had. I watched them leave then headed to my stand.
Dad took them to Thacker Mountain, out west of Oxford. We had some great stands there like the Double-Deer Stand just perfect for a morning like this when the big bucks were sure to hit their scrapes and chase does. Dad was still chasing the Peddler Field Phantom.
They had a new stand that he put James on that morning and the area around it was covered in big buck sign. Dad helped Jamie up the cotton picker spindle spikes in his bulky clothes and got him settled in. James got ready as daylight started to break.
Nothing appeared that morning except that the cold worked it’s way in to him until he sat there thinking he was going to freeze to death before anyone came to get him. Another cold, freezing, wasted day and no deer. Funny how things rapidly change between one heartbeat and the next while deer-hunting.
A sound, running feet, breaking limbs, and the gigantic buck leaped out of the brush into the narrow lane that James was in. There it stood right in front of him. James had never seen or been this close to a buck in his whole life that looked like this massive thing.
James instantly came alive and turned to get in position to shoot.
James tried to raise his gun to his shoulder to shoot off-hand but suddenly realized he had so many clothes on that he could not get the rifle up to his shoulder. He tried again, but he was too bulky and his frozen body would not respond correctly. He got the gun across his chest but then found the scope not adjusted to his eye at that distance. He kept trying to figure a way to fire as his body screamed "shoot, shoot, shoot", but the deer suddenly decided that Fargo might be a better place to be hanging around and with one mighty bound, the huge buck was gone! James was one unhappy and frustrated little boy for a long time.
The lesson: if there had been a gun rest in the stand, he would still be celebrating.
Here is a pic of a really nice deer he took at about that age.

A Blazing Saturday

Between the ruined carpet from the broken water line and the 110 degree heat outside, we managed to get a lot of work done this weekend. We have about 30 fields and we managed to get every one of them bush-hogged before dark on Saturday. I was beat, but proud that at least this job was accomplished. I found a big shed antler over at the East Gate and there is sign of a monster buck on the Mountain, pay attention Art, Dana.

Researching Tom

You know that Tom Remington at Black Bear Blog is a pretty big deal. Speaker, writer, blogger, and outdoor personality extraordinaire. He cruises back and forth from his penthouse in Maine to his luxury condo in Florida, but the Bodock Times has found that at one time he was so poor he did not have enough money to even blog. Now that's poor! Many people still remember him bumming around Bangor, Maine.......

Disaster At Camp

When we arrived at camp this past weekend, we discovered that a broken water line had flooded the camp. We spent part of each day getting water out of the carpet until we just decided to rip the whole damn thing out and start over. Thank Goodness, that we have insurance.



Denise had her daughter Alexis in for a long weekend and it was her first time at camp. She pitched in and did not complain about the awful smell or let anything bother her from having a good time. She was a real trooper. Denise and I showed her the Indian Mounds, the lake and taught her how to drive a four wheeler. I hope she will come back when we get the carpet replaced.

Finally! A Real Picture

This is for all the naysayers out there who probably did not believe that Thunderhoof was real. I finally talked that stupid deer into having his picture taken. Don't ask me how, but just know that our corn crop is going to suffer. So here is the proof for all you skeptics. A picture is worth a thousand words. Cliff, Othmar, Matt, Marian, Old Scratch, don't be writing asking for him to autograph your hunting cap.

A Hunting Marriage

I received a new link while I was out galavanting. This is from a nice couple named Andy and Julie. They blog at a new outdoor site called appropriately
Andy and Julie Outdoors.
This looks like the beginning of a very good hunting site focusing on the exploits of this happy couple in their outdoor pursuits. They have already linked up with the Outdoor Bloggers Summit. Go visit, say hello and make them feel at home.

A Real Winner

This weekend we gave the custom bass rod away. The rod was given to our great and true friend Paul Jones. It was his birthday and we thought it would be a good gift to repay just a fraction of the friendship he has shown us. He has done more to help us than you can imagine. He watches the place, helps fix our equipment, always pitches in to help and is always there with Dad when 4 o'clock rolls around for a drink. When receiving the rod he said "You think GuyK has trouble with me out-fishing him now, wait till he sees me use this beauty." Can't wait to see the fishing tournament in the spring!

My Outdoor TV Primer

It was in the mid-sixties when the show came out. The show captured our imagination to be frontiersmen, mountain men and adventurers. Of course, in the great woods of the rural south we did most of the stuff on the show all the time anyway. It is funny, but this helped push us to hunting more than anything else at a young age. The video is short (40 sec.) but we all remember the words. Play it for a quick trip down nostalgia lane.

The Hissy Fit

Hunting in my family has always been a very competitive event. Of course, I have always had to be the adult one in the family. It has taken many forms but Paul has always been the master of the hissy fit. These take many forms but in hunting it is always something to behold. The first hunting hissy fit, I was ever around happened like this……
We were hunting out of Abbeville then and Dad had taken a nice buck off a power line stand and was finished for the season. The limit was one buck a season back then.
Paul was about 14 and hadn’t killed crap and the season was winding down. In a Dad’s eyes, desperate times call for desperate measures. My father had built a stand on the edge of the bottom, tucked away so he could hunt it when the time was right and no one had hunted it that year. He decided to give Paul the chance to shoot the deer he had been saving. That afternoon he grabbed the sulking boy, threw his rifle on his shoulder and headed for the woods. They located the stand, got Paul all fixed up and told him that he was going to go back toward the road and sit on the ground till dark and wait for Paul to shoot. He left and soon found a place to sit on the edge of a deep ravine. He laid his gun against the tree. You always want a gun with you in the woods but deer hunting was not on his mind. An hour later things had gotten quiet in the woods and he thought he heard footsteps. They were getting closer and closer but he could not locate them. Finally, looking straight down about 15 feet he realized the deer was in the bottom of the draw, right under him. It was a nice young buck, but in bad shape. His front shoulder was almost completely blown off and the deer was looking at dying a long painful death.
Dad pulled his rifle up and shot.
At dark he went to get Paul. He asked “Did you Shoot?” Dad said yeah and he needed some help to get the deer out of the woods. Paul asked him what he meant as he turned bright red.
Dad explained what happened as they headed to the deer. Paul was working on building up his anger by mumbling as they got to the deep bank and finally saw the deer. Paul went ballistic! Screaming and yelling and shouting and refusing to help.
My father eased off into the deep gulley and realized Paul was still on top of the bank. He told him to get down there and help him. Paul coolly replied “You shot him, You drag him” and took off through the woods toward the truck leaving my father standing there yelling for him to get back there.
Much screaming and hollering and threats to use a switch on him while Dad dragged the deer and Paul swearing Dad was a no-good outlaw, greedy and had shot Pauls’ deer on purpose as he left Dad in the woods. Later, the deer was in the truck as Paul finally regained his composure from the frustration of a long season. I would of loved to have seen the screaming fit put on in the woods that day.

Camo is Bugging Me

I am just about tired of that supid dog.
Denise has spoiled her rotten.
I am tired of having to spell G-O and R-I-D-E and T-R-U-C-K.
I’m thinking about trading that stupid dog for a blue-nosed mule.
Everytime we go to camp the damn thing has to sit up front. She barks until we adjust the A/C just right. She scratches you if she doesn’t like the music, or the direction of the vents. I WILL NOT let her drive, she does not have a drivers license. Stupid dog.
Oh and sooner or later she is going to scratch me until I put on her favorite song.
I pull the old tape out from under the seat and gladly sing along.

An Alaskan Rebel

My niece Victoria has started school at Ole Miss. She has been raised in the wilderness of Alaska and is super excited over the new life at the University. I am hoping she will join in and really be a big part of our family here and will hunt and share with us this fall. A beautiful girl on her own, that can shoot a grizzly, skin a moose and trap a wolf should have no trouble with the boys at Ole Miss but then again, I was one of those boys and we had better watch her like a hawk. Here she is with my Dad and Trent.

45-70 Rifles

They have changed the laws in Mississippi, so that now any single shot rifle over a .35 caliber can be used during primitive weapons season. Muzzleloaders are still to be used on government land but on private land you can use them. Old Scratch and I have invested in 2 new 45/70 caliber H&R single shot rifles. Should be an interesting hunt during the rut.

Hiding in Texas

My first youtube video is not quite right but I got the whole song on there. It is all about Becky at Tall Cool Drink of Water and what the investigative reporters at the famous Bodock Times have learned about her shady past. Maybe, she should not have shot that man in Wolf City, Wyoming.

Old Timey Aiming Fluid

As promised, the nice bottle Denise bought me when we all visited Marian and went to the bottle show. This is Rex's Kidney and Liver Bitters. Old Scratch will need a few shots of that to make it through deer season.

Still Assigning Comic Book Heros

I know this is getting old, but bear with me. CDGarden is the unstoppable, and sexy Black Canary.


Now we are getting to the heart of where I want to go with this. Camo is the amazing UnderDog.




And finally Hershel Howell is the Man of Steel, Superman.
Next time we will start on a different group. Yes, we are going to get to the Super Villains.
God knows, I have a whole camp full of them.

Big Red

I was too young to hunt, but even I had heard the rumors and stories about the giant buck known as Big Red. Paul and I were at the age where the thought of a gigantic buck roaming the woods kept us awake at night hoping to be the one to bring the monstrous buck into our camp and be famous forever.
Trent was old enough to hunt and had traveled about a mile down the road from our camp to a stand where Big Red was known to travel. Trent didn’t say it to us, but the same dreams and hopes ran through his mind too.
We heard the shot that morning and thought that it could have been from Trents’ location but time dragged on and he did not come in. Finally, Dad loaded Paul and I up in his old Ford truck and we went to get him at noon.
When we finally worked our way through the woods to his stand, Trent refused to leave the stand, told us to leave and started crying. The story came out then.
The gigantic buck had worked it’s way up the trail in front of the little boy and had stopped less than 30 yards away in the open, right in front of him. Big Red, was immense and still red colored though it was winter, just like the stories and with a huge rack. Did buck fever get Trent, or was it just that there was no gun rest in our stands in those days?
Whichever, the bullet blew up dirt under the deer and took off. (He said) Dad tried to console him, but he would not get out of the stand. After awhile we tried to follow the deers’ trail through the woods and found a huge track where it crossed the road. We left Trent at about 11 or twelve years old in the woods crying and swearing to never come down out of the tree, and headed home. He has never forgotten the event and has been a fanatic about getting a big deer ever since.

Life In The Timber

A new blog link has appeared on my site. This site is run by a woman who claims she is middle aged at 49. Hell, I'm 49 and can assure you I am not middle aged.
Where was I? Oh yes, her blog name is CDGarden and she blogs about the deep woods of Iowa, hunting and deer of course, all kinds of small game and her life in the tall timber. The name of her site is Timber Life. Go over and say hello. It is great to see yet another woman with a passion for the outdoors and hunting. She is already a member of the Outdoor Bloggers Summit!

Simply Crazy

These two guys are now known as Art and Jeff and they run an excellent site known as Simply Outdoors. A bit of research from the internationally acclaimed Bodock Times and their crackerjack team of investigative reporters says it was a different story before they went Simply Crazy.
And whatever happened to the Crimson Dynamo?

The Double-Deer Stand

Everyone that hunts yearns to find it. Every deer hunter has dreamed about it. They all search with hope of finding and having the perfect deer stand. Once upon a time we had that, and the name of this great spot was the Double-Deer Stand.
Growing up, we all learned to scrape hunt and spent all our time scouting for fresh scrapes and building stands to hunt them. This spot always had a half-dozen scrapes scattered around a little clearing in the woods and must have been a major funnel area too. Every year our family took 1-3 bucks off of this stand for at least 12 years. When you hunted it, your odds on killing a deer drastically improved. I do not know exactly how many bucks were taken off of this stand but it was a lot.
The name of the stand came from two reasons. The first is that Paul and his wife, Wanda hunted the stand one morning and they both got a buck. The main reason is that once Paul hunted this stand and shot a nice buck that ran after he shot it. As he was climbing down, he heard a noise and the buck stepped back into the clearing. He leaned against the tree, shot the deer again and got down. There were two almost identical bucks lying within 10 yards of each other. We lost that land, before we moved to our present location, but the memory remains. We still search for another stand like that and I think we will find it one day.

Fact Checking Othmar

Who is Othmar Vohringer? The Bodock Times has undertaken a monumental study to determine what secrets he is hiding. Says he is German, speaks like a New Zealander, wears a hat like an Aussie, and why is he hiding out in Canada? A secret study in Acronyms has come to a startling discovery. First of all we know that ringer is a fake and if you take the rest of his name jumble it up, take out a few letters, then add some, you come up with Danger Man. If you do it again you come up with James Bond 007.

New Hero Additions

Making sure that no one gets left out.

Dana is the cool, beautiful and driven Huntress.



Terri is the sexy and strong PowerGirl.


Bryan is the mysterious Dr. Strange

Checking the Thermometer

Getting Something Done

While we were tooling around Vicksburg, some work got done Saturday. Austin, Michael and Burney were on the wood splitting and stacking detail. They did a great job and got us enough firewood ready so that we do not have to burn furniture when it gets cold.

Sunday came and Mark, Burney and I went over and put a new stand up. It is on the side of a large knoll and looks down into a bowl where we have cut out a new field.
It is a very pretty and scenic spot. Hey! The Scenic Stand!







While we were doing that, Paul led his delegation over to the cornfields. Their job was to pick and shuck two big barrels of corn. By the time we got there, they had almost come to blows. Mark and I sat back and laughed as they argued. Here are some of the exciting pics of the corn shucking.

She IS Contrary!

First of all, she is beautiful. She is raising kids and enjoying life. She's fun, sometimes sexy, truly irreverent, mostly mischievious, always laughing and she post some great pics. Her name is Terri, and if you go to her site it will give you a lift to help you make it through the day. She faces all the worries that everyone does and makes them humorous, or she slightly complains while she makes the best of them with a smile. Her site is
Terri, Terri Quite Contrary.

Wandas' Hog Party

We stopped by Marians' house and met her daughter and grandson Ethan. He was very polite and seemed a very well mannered and nice young man. I am hoping to get him up for the youth hunt.
We headed toward the camp with Marian and Bob in tow for a big party set for late that afternoon. the cooker had been going since daylight for the big wild hog cooking.


It was Wandas' Birthday!!!!
All the neighbors had been invited and started to arrive about 6PM. there was food and drink galore. We did not have hog chili, but the meat off the grill was great.



We all sang "Happy Birthday" to Wanda and wondered how she had managed to live with Mr. Evil all these years.
As the party progressed,it broke into two camps. Those that believe Thunderhoof is a deer,
and those who believe that he is an ancient spirit. Only Dad and I know the real truth.

A bitter argument soothed and cooled by homemade ice cream!





Everyone had a great time, Including those Irby boys from the coast.

The Romantic GuyK

It wasn't always Charming, Just Charming. GuyK was raised so far back in the hills they had a panther as a housecat. So when he met his wonderful Sweet Thing, the sparks flew. The strapping and handsome backwoodsman just had to sing.....

Blogging the Bottle Show

So much happened this past weekend that it will take a week to blog it all out. We headed to Vicksburg early Saturday and met Marian and Bob. Off to the bottle show! Paul and I spent several years digging and collecting bottles and I think everyone really enjoyed the show.

Love my hair! Anyway everyone bought a bottle or two. Paul also bought some antique postcards. Denise got a beautiful little green bottle for a vase and Wanda got a nice ceramic mug.

I missed my chance but Paul got a great clay jug for only $7. That's a deal folks! I did get a very cool bottle that I had always wanted and Denise was nice enough to buy it for me. Will have a pic of it later. Then it was time to go get something super cold to drink. We finished up our trip at Borellos. They have the biggest, coldest beer in Mississippi!

A Rocky Past

Who is Denny? Is he a Backwoods Drifter as he pretends? One thing the Bodock Times is good at is researching the truth. In fact, recent dredged up and slightly fabricated evidence points to a checkered past for this troubled blogger. He resides in West Virginia, but the truth is that he is really from the black mining hills of S. Dakota. The story comes out of a troubled young gunslinger on the lam, lost love, a wild gunfight and a chance for redemption. He has left his past behind but still the truth is out about Rocky......

2 Good Links

Over the weekend I have received two links that you are really going to enjoy. The first is from Bryan Karazsia. He has started a very good blog about hunting that is informative, fun and fact filled. He has an analogy between baseball cards and deer hunting up that is a wonderful post. His site is DeerPHD. Go read him and pick up a doctorate in deer hunting.

The second link is from a woman that reminds me of Marian. She is a bowhunter and works on encouraging and helping women get into hunting. Product reviews, clothing, and all aspects of learning to hunt. Her name is Dana and she blogs at The Wild WoodsWoman. Everyone should bookmark her site. Her latest post is simple yet very educational on talking to your local vendors at the Farmers Market for permission to hunt deer. Those farmers usually hate a damn deer. It is good to see serious hunters from the female ranks that are eager to get other women interested in hunting, and throwing in a few tips for men to help in the process.

The Royal Duck Blind

Hershel "Duckshot" Howell has his new ultra swanky duck blind finished. He has it painted and ready to go. Here Denise and Camo snuck down to look at it since he won't let us hunt there. He is going to use his double-barrel shotgun to hunt this year. One barrel for ducks, One barrel for bucks. Should be an interesting year.

OBS Guestbook

The Outdoor Bloggers Summit now has their guestbook up and running. This is for all you visitors that enjoy the outdoors and want to be part of the OBS, but do not blog.
Sign your name over there and become part of a group dedicated to hunting, fishing and the outdoors. Be part of a group that you have direct input with your thoughts and views. Be mentioned like my friends Two Feathers and Old Scratch. Make sure to keep up with where our Summit is going to take place and be a part of it.

The Well

A spooky campfire story for the weekend.
The famous Christmas Place is as strange a place as you will ever come across. Beautiful woods, a rich sense of history, and tremendous hunting combine for a paradise on Earth.
The land is also filled with strange and unusual phenomena.
There are places that compasses will not work, several ghosts, awe inspiring Indian Mounds and a grave that is strangely cold. There are old roads, house places, and mysterious places to be explored. There are amazing Ghost lights and a hidden Confederate treasure waiting to be found.
A strange and frightening creature roams the deep hollows and an ancient gigantic buck rules the woods. Most of these things can be taken in stride after a while, but we are always alert when we enter the woods. Scouting trips can be hazardous in more ways than one and we keep on the main trails if dark finds us alone in the woods.
You enter the large Spike Camp field from the South. The large rye grass field is part of an old house place and Indian camp. The disk has turned up bottles, arrowheads and pottery. I have taken several nice bucks there and Spencer took his first deer on this field.
There are three old roads that lead out of the field. The right one leads back to the old main road, the center road leads down the ridge to some more fields that make up the Spike Camp Area. The road to the left leads to an old Cedar covered ridge that is largely unexplored. I scouted this area in the fall, to hopefully find signs of a big buck and get a new place to hunt. What I found there was so odd that this is the first time I have written or spoken about it.
I worked the edges of the ridges in this area looking for big hooks and scrapes. I found some sign of good bucks but not what I was looking for. After scouting, I circled up and into the large grove of cedar trees that shaded the top of the ridge. This is not a place to look for deer sign but I was curious and wanted to check it out for any old artifacts.
Large old trees shaded the area; keeping it cool and dark and I looked for signs of old buildings. I searched hard for part of a rock fireplace or stones from a foundation.
I took my stick and poked around until I reached a thick area of tangled brush near the north end of the ridge. I worked my way through this and in the very center, I almost fell into a deep black hole that had a couple of old rotten logs and planks across it. Pushing the briars away I realized it was a deep well.
I stepped back, looked around and dragged an old piece of rusty tin from a tangle of briars. I figured that would work to cover the hole till we could get something better.
But first, I decided to look in and see if I could see anything in the bottom.
The sun was high, and after pushing vines and an old log away, I could see a tiny reflection of water deep in the bottom. The rest of the interior was pitch black.
I had instantly marked it to come back with a strong light to look for old bottles in the bottom and stepped away to put the tin over it, when I heard high pitched laughter.
There was tinny laughter, light giggling and whispered conversation so low that I could not make out words. Then more high-pitched laughter as I looked around. I looked back over into the old well again and fresh child-like laughter rolled out of the darkness. My hair stood on end as I froze and listened. A whispered conversation was going on in the darkness at the bottom of the well.
The laughter sounded as if it was from children. Muffled high pitched voices, a giggle and then it was quiet. I stepped back into the brush a half dozen steps and froze again. Still holding the piece of tin I was drawn back to look into the darkness again.
The light voices started again from the well. Another laugh, and one voice that seemed very unhappy. I found myself looking down into the darkness of the well again. I could not make out the words, but felt that they were happy and having fun except for the one low angry voice, and after a few minutes of quietly listening, I could feel loneliness in their whispers also. Looking into the reflection, thoughts came to me that I needed to climb in, it would be soothing and quiet. That everything would be complete if I just got to the bottom of the well. I was mesmerized until the piece of tin fell out of my hand and luckily landed on it’s side and fell over covering part of the well. I shook my head realizing how close I was to a suicidal leap into space. I stepped back and finally realized they were searching for a playmate to join them in the dark pit.
I eased over and quickly put the sheet of tin over the well. I rolled several old logs over the hole and left as fast as I could. I have not been back.