FIRST DEER

My daughter, Ashley, used to tag along as an observer on hunts as a youngster.  We enjoyed spending quality time together outdoors.  Even though the highlight of some hunts were a couple donuts and a jug of chocolate milk enjoyed sitting on the tailgate I still cherish many of those experiences.

Ashley took the Kansas Hunter Education Course when she was 9 years old and killed a few turkeys several years later.  But then came school activities and sports and she got busy.  But likely worse yet as far as hunting participation was four, right shoulder surgeries from age 14-18.  Recoil, shotgun or rifle, was never an option during those years and archery was out as well.

Meanwhile, her younger twin brothers had gotten into deer hunting.  They've each killed a deer or two and I think their tales of success, or near misses in some instances, rekindled a desire Ashley had as a youngster. 

"I want to kill a deer when I come back on fall break, Dad" she said, now a college sophomore several hours away.  "It's on my Bucket List."

I didn't realize a 19-year-old could have a Bucket List, but if she has one and that's on there I was game to help her check it off the list.  Recent changes in deer hunting regulations allow kids in all units and adults in four units to use a crossbow.  This option would prove beneficial for Ashley's situation and two of my friends offered up the use of their Horton crossbows after hearing of her request.

We practiced shooting when Ashley got back home and she had no trouble hitting the bullseye.  A quick refresher course on where to aim using a deer hunting DVD and a laser pointer and we were ready to go hunting.  I was surprised at how excited she was as we crawled into the ground blind later that afternoon.

Ashley and I chatted and laughed to pass the time.  Our topics were different now than those when she was a youngster but still quality time spent together.  It wasn't long and Ashley went on point like a prize bird dog.

"DAD!  There's a DEER! she said.  "It's looking RIGHT at us, DON'T MOVE!"

I couldn't see it yet from my vantage point in the back of the blind.  I was amazed at Ashley's reaction and how fast her heart rate and breathing went from cool and calm to 90-to-nothing.  I laughed and told her to relax and we'd see what happened.

We'd chatted about Ashley's expectations on what she wanted to shoot.  I bought her two deer permits so she had several choices.  She had said she really didn't want to shoot a little one, buck or doe.  I told her whatever she wanted to do was fine with me.

As the deer came into my view I could tell it was a small doe and Ashley was instantly disappointed she wasn't going to shoot.  She had the crossbow up and rested on shooting sticks and was watching it through the scope at 20 yards.  To a first-time deer hunter it likely looked as big as a house.  

"Oh, Dad, if I could shoot this one that would be SOOO PERFECT!" she whispered.

Without hesitation I said, "Let's do it.  Put the crosshairs right behind the shoulder and slowly squeeze."

At the shot I knew it was true and the deer bolted.  Ashley wasn't quite so sure as it happened in the blink of an eye.

"Did I get it?" she asked in between labored breaths. 

"Yep!" I responded.

She couldn't wait to get out of the blind and go look.  The deer traveled about 60 yards and Ashley was the first to spot it.  Her excitement level grew as we admired her first deer. 

"That was SO cool!" she said.  "I couldn't believe how fast my heart was beating!"

Ashley was anxious to share her success with friends and family via text and Facebook.  Many of her girlfriends offered immediate congratulations and "You GO, girl!"

One commented "I wish my Dad would take me hunting!"

I'm sure glad I did. 



     

   

FANTASTIC FALL

Fall is a wonderful time for many reasons.  The weather cools down, football seasons kick-off and there's plenty to do in the great outdoors.  Hunting seasons are getting into full swing and the fish are strapping on the feed bags in preparation for winter.  Fall fishing is some of the best of the year and gone are the majority of boats making a day on the water peaceful.

I got a chance to meet an old friend, Eric Sher, and make a new one, Jeff Davis, for an afternoon of crappie fishing in Jeff's boat recently at Melvern Reservoir.  Melvern is a crappie factory and there's plenty of man-made brush piles in the lake to find hungry fish.  We met at the ramp at 1 p.m. and were off in search of big slabs.  Light winds and seasonal temperatures promised a perfect day.

The bite was a bit slow and we hopped from pile to pile trying to find something more than the obligatory dinks offered in a plentiful crappie population.  Running and gunning we managed to put the occasional keeper in the boat.  Nothing huge, but all were 10-13 inches and size really doesn't matter much to me as they all look perfect frying to a golden brown in hot grease. 

We had plenty of time to chat and I learned Jeff is a transplanted Cajun.  He came here via the Army at Ft. Riley back in the early 1990s.  After his 4-year commitment he decided to make Kansas his home to raise a family and enjoy all the Sunflower State had to offer outdoors.  Crappie fishing is likely his favorite and he admits there's plenty of options near his home in eastern Kansas.

The day turned to evening and the fall colors on the surrounding hills were amplified with a gorgeous sunset.  We watched the sun dip behind the horizon and the various hues of orange, yellow and red were spectacular as they stretched across the water and finally disappeared. 

Jeff fired up his boat and we headed back to the ramp, commenting on what a wonderful day it had been.  Fishing wasn't all that impressive, despite a dozen keepers that would feed my family a wonderful meal with fish sandwich leftovers.  With results like that I can't call it slow by any stretch and we had enough action we never got bored.  Spending time on the water on a perfect fall day is never boring to me anyway.  Meeting new friends with the same interests is a bonus, too, as the Kansas outdoors is a wonderful place to be.   

WHEN A PLAN COMES TOGETHER

When you're dealing with Mother Nature and the great outdoors, it's often difficult to get all aspects of an adventure lined up and cooperative on an outing scheduled months in advance.  A special waterfowl hunting opportunity for youngsters 15 years of age and under last weekend had been on my radar since the same time last year.

I had taken my 12-year-old boys to Cheyenne Bottoms Wildlife Area for their first real duck hunt.  They shot a few ducks and had a great time.  These youth seasons are the perfect chance to get new hunters out and help them get off to a good start as the focus is solely on their experience.  My only regret last year was that I didn't get my nephew lined up to tag along with us.  I told Dylan he was on the list for this season and he's been looking forward to it for some time as he'd never hunted ducks.

My nephew lives two hours away and not in the direction I was headed to Jamestown Wildlife Area for this year's hunt.  But to his parents' credit they logged about 7 hours of drive time in two days to meet me and get him picked up.  That's a pretty big commitment of time and money and I'm sure Dylan appreciated it as much as I did. 

We arrived at the marsh's primitive campground and the first thing the boys noticed were the mosquitoes which were instant and persistent numbering in the hundreds and hovering around fresh flesh.  I sprayed all three boys with repellent and we got busy setting up the tent.  We gathered our gear, loaded the duck boat and headed out for an afternoon hunt.

Action was steady to start and the boys had eight ducks down in about the first 30 minutes.  All were blue-winged teal and Dylan's first duck would be photographed for posterity.  Gator, my 2-year-old black Labrador retriever, was busy and the boys got a kick out of watching him work.

After a short lull in the action things picked back up and flocks of teal started buzzing the marsh.  Cody was first to finish with his six ducks and Dylan wasn't far behind.  Brandon needed just a couple more and he picked those off and we were done by about 6:15 p.m.  One lone greenwing teal was in the mix of the boys' bags as the rest were bluewings.

As I tried to shoot some photos there were ducks landing all around us.  It was hard to keep Gator's attention and the boys laughed at his commitment to watching ducks.  I finally managed a few decent photos and we picked up and headed back to camp.

The evening was gorgeous.  Light winds and crisp temperatures made a big fire inviting.  We roasted hot dogs over open flames as we watched flocks of teal headed back to the marsh to roost and listened to screech owls and coyotes start an evening serenade that stretched well into the night.  Sleep came easy for the boys as they nestled into sleeping bags. 

I couldn't have scripted a more perfect outdoor adventure for my boys and nephew.  The weather cooperated perfectly, the ducks were there in mass and all the ingredients were in place to make this experience one me and the boys will remember forever.   I love it when a plan comes together.