General

Frog gigging season has arrived!!!

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FROG GIGGING, what in the world is that?

GROSS, you do what with frogs?

Do they really taste like chicken?

 

Those of you that have ever talked about your frog gigging experience know what those questions are all about. That is what I hear every time I start telling gigging stories. Don’t get me wrong, I love hearing those questions as they open the door to introducing someone else to something that I love. Please submit your questions in the comments and I will do my best to answer them.

 

This years opening night was a blast. There was one particular moment that made it a huge success and we will get to that. We were only out a few hours from 9:00pm until 12:00pm so it wasn’t a long night but still a ton of fun with a little success also. My gigging partners were Andrew and my Dad. Andrew I have written about before as I have taken him out deer hunting a few times. I don’t think I have mentioned my Dad much on here but, I always love to spend time with him.

 

We set out just after dark. The temperatures were in the mid 90′s and the humidity was sky high. Bugs were buzzing and remarkably monster bull frogs weren’t making a noise. We hit a large 30 acre lake first and quickly decided that we needed to leave. There were barely any frogs at all to be found. I am contributing this lakes lack of frogs to the high number of racoons and other predator animals. So we left and headed to the lake where the magic happend.

 

The next and last place that we headed too has been the honey hole in the past and we gave it a break last year. I expected us all to limit out on this small 1/3 acre pond. We only found 5 bull frogs that met my size standards and we missed one of those. We only came out with 4 big bull frogs and a ton of scratches from sticker bushes.

 

So what made the night such a success? Where is that magic that was mentioned? It all had to do with Andrew as this was his first time out gigging frogs. I gigged the first frog to show him how it is done and then passed the gig off to him. We went about 20 feet further and there was a monster frog. He got excited, but at the same time realized that he couldn’t get to the frog. Being a smart and ethical hunter he quickly passed the gig back to me and asked me to take it. He didn’t want to miss the frog or more importantly wound it. I gigged the frog and then we moved about 20 more feet down the shore to another big frog. This one is in a great spot, sitting on solid ground, and facing the water.  Andrew slowly approached, creeping through the leaves and sticks as quietly as possible, and then wham that frog hit the water and was gone. “No worries there are more”, I told him.

 

Then just a little ways down the shore, again there is another big bull frog. This time we are on the dam and in the grass. Andrew started his silent approach and got within a few feet of the frog. He placed the gig over the frog and about 6″ away. Then it happened, he struck with all of his might and started giggling like a little school girl. Now I am in no way making fun of him. You all know that feeling when you have done something that you think is ridiculously awesome and you just smile or start to giggle. Well this was his moment. He pried him out of the mud, pulled him from the gig, and carefully placed him in the bag.

 

Now his is what I live for. This young mans night was made and he is hooked for life. The next day at church he was telling everyone about it and can’t wait to go again. I would like to encourage all of you hunters/outdoorsmen out there to find a local youth or a youth of your own and invest some time in them. The worst that can happen is that you have a good time. haha.

 

With all of that said enjoy your Frog Gigging season and send in those stories as we would love to hear them.

 

Twitt

Hunting

Back-2-Back 2012 part2

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With one tag filled and the final day of the cool snap, I was in position early to kill my second bird. This time I was waiting on the opposite siOde of his perch, daring him to speak up. Daylight came, nothing. I could hear a faint gobble in a distance. Knowing I was close to the bird I wanted I had a decision to make. After hearing the echo of the gobble a few times I told myself “gobble one more time and see what it gets you”. Then he did. Now where I live there no such a thing as flat ground. After hearing the first gobble, I had to cross a giant ozark razorback ridge. Upon reaching the top of what felt like a mountain,  you can imagine my thought when I realized he was one more hill over. As the run and gun tactics have proven in past years, I knew I had to get there quick. Turkeys are a finicky creature, kind of like women, you have to catch them in a good mood to get them to cooperate. After I arrived on the right hillside, I sat down to catch my breath and listen to get his position. While waiting a friend of mine that couldn’t make it down to hunt text me,  I told him my current situation and I tried not to rub it in to him, but I made it clear it would be a good morning to be here.
Our conversation was cut short by a gobble about 150 yards away. I quickly ran up an old logging road and stuck the beat up hen of mine in the ground. I sat back against a tree and called. I used some light caulking followed by one fairly bold series. Then shut up. Once again as pressured birds do, he lock jawed. I had the gut feeling this gobbler was gonna follow this logging road and split off behind me. I made the aggressive decision to get on my knees and turn to my right. Being right handed I knew I could swing left, but if he came up behind me I would be in trouble. Just a few moments after making the transition I could hear the leaves crunching behind a pile of logs. Somehow,  maybe by miracle, I made the right decision to turn. I seen him walking behind a top that had been cut out of a tree. I took aim in an opening dead center in the fork of it. As picture perfect as it gets, he stepped into the opening and noticed me 40 yards away putting a bees on him. He didn’t notice long. After I shot and ran over, all I could think was how lucky I had gotten.
He was a decent gobbler, nothing to write home about, but plenty good enough to fill this hunters last tag. While standing there gathering my thoughts I realized I just killed turkeys  back to back, during a season when breeding was all but over and gobbling had dwindled down next to nothing. I knew the cool snap helped more than anything. I went into the week telling myself not to call if I wasn’t 100% sure I was in tight enough. There’s a fine line from getting their curiosity and getting them alerted. My gut feelings made this season what it was.
Knowing the bird I wanted was there, then hearing this one fired up. I had eaten plenty of past turkey tags and I wasn’t going to pass up a hammering gobbler to chance one not saying a word and roosting within sight of his hens. Taking the chance and changing the direction I was set up in at the last moment possible proved to pay off as well.
Some of the things I changed
came from many spoiled past hunts. But the biggest factor in play was luck. I’m never to proud to let luck take the credit. Being in the right place at the right time and the choices made just happening to work out filled these tags and I’m truly grateful. Never forget you’ll get as much out of your hunt as you want to put into it.
Twitt

Hunting

Back-2-Back 2012 part 1

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With turkey season coming to a halt and bow season within sight I thought I’d take  a moment to share my hunts form April. 

With my work schedule consisting of me being away from home over a week at a time, I was only gonna end up with 6 days to hunt. Warmer than usual temperatures early in the year had kicked the “avian love” into overdrive early.
 The last couple of weeks in March,  I spent most mornings listening to more gobbles than I could count. One morning, as I watched the dawn break ,I heard a bird  directly across from me professing his love to any hen within ear shot. Problem was, the old gobbler on the other end of the ridge had already claimed this group of gals and wasn’t about to let some young smooth talking jake slip in while he was around. I crouched down next to a white oak and listened to these birds bad mouth each other as they both headed to meet up and settle the issue. To my surprise, they met in a clear cut, on the high inside directly across from me. I watched in amazement as the fight ensued, bouncing off branches, the sound of wings slapping and spurs digging in. I knew exactly where I needed to be for my first hunt. I wanted these birds.
 Now, let me say first off, turkey season is my outlet. I take bow season, smallmouth tournaments, and trapping way too serious. Turkey season is about fun to me. I get more enjoyment taking a friend along than anything. My first morning in from work, once season came in,  I was setting in position where I could slip in on these two rivals. I listened many mornings and they had hung around the same area most mornings. We had a 2 day cool spell and I knew even though it was late into the breeding season the weather might help them to speak up. The first gobble came early, and close. There was no way to get directly to him so I took off in an attempt to circle around his roost. After climbing the mountain he was on, I set up tight, and waited a few before letting a few soft purrs loose. Instantly,  it got his reaction. It also got the hens reaction just below him. He flew down opposite of where I was set up and I knew I had my work cut out for me. My plan was to stay back and follow along and maybe he would get a little distance from his group of gal pals. Then,  I heard his young counter part. The next ridge over keeping his distance as normal, speaking his mind about the situation. The trek commenced. Down the hill and up another cliff I climbed. Once I reached the top of it, I listened a few min when I heard him. I was close, very close. Slipping just down to the break of the hill I set up my decoy and found a tree. I called twice softly, waited a minute, and let one more light series out before tight lipping. I waited 10 minutes or so, and no gobble. The place I was hunting I knew had been pressured so I had anticipated this. Then I heard the slightest crack of a twig. Looking to my right I  seen the jake, puffed up eyeing the decoy. The bird never said a word as he approached the worn out foam hen that so many before him had fallen for. A quick flick of the safety, and a squeeze of the trigger, I filled my first tag.
But, was it a double bearded 1 3/4 hook toting 30 pounder? No. It was one I said I wanted though.
Sometimes we get so caught up in having to kill “the big one” and we lose sight of one of huntings greatest gifts. The payoff you get from challenging yourself. I climbed hills, sweated through my camo in 36 degree weather, got spoiled by hens, and still managed to kill one of the two birds I called out a couple weeks before. I will take that on any hunt. Always remember,  don’t let anyone take anything away from your hunting experiences. If it puts a smile on your face and puts the shakes in your knees, you’re doing it right. Hunt the way that makes you happy. Check back for part 2 of my spring turkey season. Thanks for reading.
Twitt

General, Hunting

The new guy

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If  you’re  a  regular  to  this  website  then  you  probably  noticed  I am new.

Let  me  start  by  saying,  I am exremely  grateful  for  the  opportunity  to  get  the  chance  to  share  some  of  my  hunting  stories  and  some  of  what  I have  learned  in  the  woods.  I  have  lived  in  the  same  small town  in  southern  Missouri  all  my  life.  I  live  for  the outdoors  as  I’m  sure  most  of  you  reading  this  do.

Hunting,  trapping,  and  fishing  are  all  three of my favorite hobbies, but  my number one hobby would have to be whitetail hunting and  especially whitetail hunting  with  a  bow.

Growing up,  life  was all  about  sports  and  hunting.  In  my  late  teens  to  early  twentys  while  most  of  my  friends  were  out  cruising  town, you  could  find  me  hanging  out  at  the  ” fur shed”  listening  to  all  my  dads  buddies  swap  stories  of  the  outdoors.

I’ve  been fortunate  enough  to  learn about  wildlife   from  a  couple  of  the  best locals  in  my  area.  I am  a  firm  believer  that  the deadliest  weapon  you  can  take to  the  woods  is  open  ears  and  an  open  mind.  Noone  should  ever  tell  anyone  how  to  hunt, but  there  is  a  lot  that  can  be  learned  from  other hunters opinions  and  experiences.  We have  all  had hunting lessons that had to be  learned  the hard way, that could of possibly been done an easier or better way.

Being  able to  share  those  experiences  is  one  of  the  greatest  things  about  living  as  an  outdoorsman.  I am 29  and have been  in  the  woods  over  20  years  of  my  life  and  I am  still  learning  every  trip  out.  I  hope  you  will  enjoy  my future  posts, and if  nothing  else,  find  them entertaining.

Always  remember,  in  the  world  of  hunting,  opinions  are  just  opinions.  Hunt  the  way  you  enjoy  it the most.

Best  of  luck on all  you outdoor  adventure.                                                                                              

Twitt

Giveaways

CRKT knife Give-Away at 500 Twitter Follows – Who Won?

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Well everyone, I am sorry this is coming a bit late, but I have been disconnected from the blogging world for a few weeks working on a new career. I have now compiled the list of entries, assigned a number to each one, and used a random number generator to select the winner.

 

Are you ready to see who it is?

 

#435 Jeff Carver @jlkc08

He will be notified shortly. I am hoping that he will submit some pictures of him using his knew skinner this year after his hunts.

 

Stay tuned and I will announce soon what the next giveaway will be.

Twitt

Hunting, Predator Hunting

Evening coyote and bobcat hunt

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Recently, I have been hunting some property for a friend of mine that is rich with turkey and deer. He offered me a place to hunt predators and the chance to rid some of the critters eating his game. He had told me of trail camera pictures of bobcats and tales of coyotes yipping in the evenings around the farm. After some studying of some google maps I was ready to go.

I figured I would start at the south side of the property for two reasons. For one, the west wind was just perfect. Second, the lay of the property has some long open pastures with plots of briers, which is just my cup of tea for predators. I made a couple stands when I could but with whitetail deer muzzle loader season was right around the corner and then the second part of Missouri’s youth season was a couple weeks later. So while I had the chance between the two one evening I thought I would make a long stand one evening.

I was settled in a nice spot over looking the long pasture. Weather was nice, and not real cold. I figured since it was earlier I would call very soft for awhile and then closer to dark I would turn it up. I started out with the foxpro, out front and up wind, about 50 yards. Also, I had out one of my mojo decoys. Started with a screaming rabbit, very low volume, and would switch it with a cottontail distress. I like using the screaming rabbit, for the really high pitch sound. Kind of off my normal routine of using bird sounds.

Just a few seconds into the call, there was the ole chicken hawk coming in for a look. Well, he got way closer then I wanted him to, I was worried he was going to get my decoy. I have had that happen in the past. After the fly by, I let the call run for about 5 minutes let it rest a minute and switch the call. It had been about 15 minutes into the call, when I turned to look hard left. There was a cat sneaking threw the sage grass. She was no more then about 25 yards from me, and had no clue I was anywhere around. She was locked in on the decoy, sneaking very quietly threw the grass. I really enjoy watching a coyote come to a call, but I love watching a cat sneak in to the call. They are so quite, rarely making any noise.

Watching her sneak in, I decide I would use my shotgun at that short range. One shot was all I needed, she never even kicked. I stayed on stand the rest of the evening. Called for coyotes with no success. When dark came, I wasted no time going to look for my cat. Boy was she a nice one too.

It was great evening and I was very blessed to be able to hunt this property. Definitely one of the nicest bobcats I have ever had the chance to take. I owe a huge thank you to my friend Russell for allowing me the opportunity to hunt this farm.

 

For the record, the top picture is my son Braedin, he is 4′-9” you can get a idea how nice this cat really was.

Twitt