RUSSELL THORNBERRY OUTDOORS

Famous Outdoor Firsts

My son-in-law, Barry Patterson, my daughter Michelle, and their four kids came up to Alberta for a visit in July, which naturally resulted in some serious fly-fishing on ‘Possum Creek, my favorite and testiest brown trout stream.  Right at dusk Barry hooked this great fish on a #16 Adams and we actually netted the fish in the dark. Barry was using a little 3-weight rod with 7X tippet.  In the dark we couldn’t see where the fly was hooked so he just snapped off the leader and released the fish.  The next day at 3 p.m. Barry caught the same fish in the exact same spot, still wearing the # 16 Adams in his lip. I jokingly told Barry that if he caught the same fish a third time, we’d go straight to Vegas.  The next day he hooked what we believe was the same fish yet again, however, due to an ill-placed bush, the fish broke off.  Oh well, maybe we’ll get to Vegas in 2010.

Russell Patterson, my oldest grandson, made his fly-fishing debut on Alberta’s little known ‘Possum Creek in July of 09, and after several close calls he connected with this Rocky Mountain whitefish, thereby becoming a full-fledged fly fisherman. Like his father, Russell has infinite patience and unlimited desire.  This is the beginning of something very special – not the least of which is a new fly-fishing partner for gramps!

Darcy Dirsten from Rocky Mountain House, Alberta, has been a professional big game guide for years for everything from deer to elk to moose to bears to Bighorn sheep, so he knows how to hunt. However, he decided to try his luck with bow and arrow for the first time this fall. By the third day with a bow in his hand he was hitting a 2-inch bulls-eye at 60 yards with alarming regularity. Shall I say he’s a natural?  He set up a treestand near his home and took his first animal with a bow – this pretty white-tailed buck – no more than three weeks from the time he first had a bow in his hand.  No time wasted here!  So, “Deadly Darcy Dirsten” (AKA ‘Triple D’) enters the ranks of successful bowhunters in record time.  Way to go Darcy!

Corrine Bott, also of Rocky Mountain House, Alberta, made a perfect shot on her first white-tailed buck in September – her first animal with a bow and arrow, but certainly not the last.  Her husband John is an avid bowhunter and a winning competitive archer himself, and has his whole family flinging arrows.  Corrine caught on to bowhunting in a big way and if John’s not available to take her hunting, she goes out by herself.  I’m sure bagging this buck will spur her on to many more fruitful hours in treestands.  And speaking of treestands, according to her father-in-law, Ray Bott, she shot his buck out of his treestand – or so he says. Sorry Ray, you gotta be present to win!

This September Jim Rogers of Grapevine, Texas, traveled to Saskatchewan for his first bowhunting trip since having open heart surgery and he was rewarded with a 210 6/8-inch B&C gross whitetail, clearly Jim’s best ever buck with bow or rifle.  Jim is a hard-core whitetail hunter with plenty of bragging bucks on his wall, but this one is the icing on the cake.  And it couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy. He has the patience of Job and is willing to put in the time and energy it takes to get the job done. Congrats Jim.  I hope you will continue to speak to us mortal deer hunters. Shooting a buck with a bow and arrow is hardly a “famous first” for Jim Rogers, but shooting one of this caliber certainly is! By the way, that’s Jim’s wife Jeanne in the photo with him and she is as devoted a deer hunter as her husband. It’s a family thing.

Allen bagged three bulls with his rifle in Colorado back in the late 80s, but this was his first opportunity to bag an elk with bow and arrow. He and his hunting partner Brad Glenn had been applying in Wyoming for the last three years and this was the first time they were drawn. Their first hunting day was Sept. 14th.  On the 16th Allen had two close calls with two bulls and was at full draw at 27 yards on one but the angle was wrong so he held his shot. They found a great spot to hang a tree stand that Brad hunted a couple of days and the last day he shot a big cow at 15 yards. He made a great shot and she only went about 50 yards.

Brad and Allen were hunting about 10 miles apart. Brad dropped Allen off on top of the mountain that morning about an hour before daylight and as he hiked down the ridge into the canyon he could hear the same bull that he had hunted earlier in the week. He knew where there was a saddle in the ridge coming up out of the canyon where he thought the bull would come up the mountain to bed in the black timber. He got to that spot before daylight -- set up and started calling. When he cow-called the bull started answering and getting closer. Positioned behind a big spruce tree on the side of the ridge, he couldn't see the elk as they came up the mountain but when the cows stepped out they were only 15 yards away and Allen new the bull was right behind them.

He drew his BowTech 101st Airborne and when the bull stepped out and cleared the brush, he cow- called and stopped him at 22 yards. When he released his arrow he knew the shot was perfect -- a complete pass through. The bull took off running and Allen began cow-calling to him, stopping him at about 40 yards, as the bull looked for the cow he thought he was hearing. He was getting wobbly so Allen didn't bother nocking another arrow. The bull started to run again but only made it 10 more yards and piled up. The celebration began. It was an awesome experience that Allen will never forget.   He described it like this:  “To be in the Rocky Mountains on a cool September morning with golden aspen leaves and ‘elk music’ in the air -- only our God could create places like this!”

Custom rifle builder, James Ferguson Sr., (left – accompanied by guide) famous for creating the flattest shooting rifles on planet Earth, created a brand new rifle and cartridge by necking a .30-.378 Weatherby case up to .338 caliber, essentially creating a .338-.378 Magnum, just the ticket for those who want to make big dangerous critters very dead very quickly.  To proof test his new rifle and cartridge he booked a September grizzly bear hunt in British Columbia and bagged this gorgeous specimen.  Satisfied that this new creation is as devastating in the field as it is on paper, the new .338-.378 Ferguson Grizzly is now available from Ferguson Custom Rifles www.fergusonrifles.com.  Mine is already on order.  You’ll be hearing a lot more about this incredible cartridge in the future. Congrats on your first grizzly James, and on a great new rifle!

My friend Jeremy Johnson shot this Alabama alligator on August 22 at around 3 a.m. on Lake Eufaula.  He was 8 feet long and estimated him at 130 pounds. Jeremy shot the gator with a bow and arrow and finished him off with the bang stick and was one of only 80 people that drew a tag for the gator hunt in Eufaula this year. Jeremy is a camerman for The Backwoods Life TV show, but this time he got to be in front of the camera while two of the show’s hosts filmed him making good on his first alligator hunt. Congrats Jeremy!

Clay Tiringer comes from a family of notoriously successful deer hunters. The Tiringer name strikes fear into the hearts of whitetails all across Saskatchewan, and rightfully so, they’re excellent hunters and they never give up.  That said, a little luck now and then never hurts. 

Clay, is from the Spiritwood area of Saskatchewan noted for producing some real whopper bucks.  However, his wife Crystal’s family is from much farther south near Leader, Saskatchewan, not noted for big bucks at all.  In fact Clay’s father-in-law has been looking at land to buy in the Spiritwood area so he’ll be able to hunt bigger bucks than he has at home.

Okay, the stage is set.  Clay decided to go bowhunting one evening in Sept. 09. But there was a problem -- he didn’t own a bow. So, he borrowed his father-in-law’s bow.  Problem solved.  Clay saw no need to shoot the bow or practice with it before he climbed into his treestand. After all, how hard could it be? He found out 1 1/2 hours later when a mind boggling, 36-point, non-typical buck walked under his stand, which he shot and killed.  It was the first animal he ever shot with a bow and it turned out to be the new Saskatchewan bow and arrow record scoring over 244 inches!

I know, I can hear you bowhunters groaning from here, and you’re probably saying to yourselves, “Well, he better enjoy that buck because he’ll never get a shot at another one like that.”  But remember, his last name is Tiringer and the Tiringer clan does not believe that lightning only strikes once – and they have an embarrassing collection giant record book whitetails to prove it. So you probably haven’t heard the last of Clay Tiringer.

My friend Tim Martin enjoyed his special “Famous Outdoors First” this fall and because of his entertaining writing ability I asked him to write an account of his adventure in his own words – so enjoy.
RT

On the third straight day of struggling to learn how to shoot a muzzleloader — all by myself — I swatted mosquito number 72 from my temple and swore at the 92-degree Alabama afternoon. My shirt was drenched from the humidity — or perhaps the pressure of having only two days remaining until my hunt in Southern Ohio.

The rifle had failed to fire on my last two attempts — not a comforting thought to a guy who’d never even shot a blackpowder rifle until then. I shuddered to think that in a few short hours, a similar mishap could arise while coming face-to-face with the biggest buck I’d ever seen.

Thunder added to the tension as a storm began to loom above the pines. I was almost thankful at its approach, since it would put a merciful end to my frustrations. Giant drops began to fall, forcing a mad scramble to clean the rifle, throw a mountain of gear in the truck and retreat. As I ran to retrieve my target, I was astonished at the sight of a magnificent rainbow gradually forming on the horizon. It crept across the sky, almost indiscernibly, pushing the blackness eastward. I stopped in mid-stride to witness it slowly develop into a double-arcing prism before my very eyes. It was as if God was saying, “Go easy, son. This trip is my gift to you, and you are worrying all the fun out of it.”

At that moment, a sense of peace flooded my spirit.

Four days later, I huddled inside a ground blind, cursed another state’s rain and watched an alfalfa field full of nothing. I tried to keep a dry towel wrapped around the muzzleloader’s breech as water dripped from a window flap. It was while repositioning one of the flaps that I first noticed the buck standing 250 yards away. Even from that distance, its antlers looked HUGE. My jaw dropped as it shook the downpour from its coat, spraying like a wet dog and finishing with a vigorous headshake. It teased me by hanging out at the edge for an eternity, pawing, hooking branches, grazing and waiting for the rain to cease. Suddenly, the sun burst through the clouds, and the buck began to feed in my direction.

In short, adrenaline didn’t conquer me; the rifle didn’t misfire; I didn’t make a bad shot; and 90 minutes later, I was posing for photos with a 186-inch 15-point buck — the finest of my career and my first with a muzzleloader.

And as the warm evening sun created perfect picture-taking conditions, it occurred to me that rainbow I’d seen in Alabama wasn’t just some sort of scientific optical phenomenon. It was a reassuring promise that if I stopped worrying long enough to enjoy His gifts everything would turn out fine. The proof of that promise is something that I wanted to share with you. 

Tim Martin


 

Western Canadian Sportsman's Rendezvous a Big Hit

Dudley Hall, Richard Culpepper and yours truly hosted the first western Canadian Sportsman’s Rendezvous June 5-7th west of Caroline, Alberta, on the beautiful campus of Living Faith Bible College located on the banks of the Clearwater River.

The sporting events were a blast even though Mother Nature did her best to add variety to our primarily outdoor weekend. We had our Bow and Arrow Golf Tournament while it snowed, trap shooting while it rained and hailed, hog tossing, pickle spitting, and knife throwing in the sunshine – all in one day.  However, the weather couldn’t dampen the spirits of our group of men who braved the elements for bragging rights and a ton of laughs at each other’s expense.

Aside from the outdoor events that entertained us, this group of men were inspiring because of their hunger for God and their desire to make a difference in this life.  Campfire conversations were honest and challenging and it was clear that these men wanted to be “real,” serving God honestly without the trappings of religiosity, dead traditions and the feminization of the North American culture.  My special thanks to Dudley Hall and Richard Culpepper for their contributions to our event.

Plans are in the making for another Rendezvous next June, 2010.  Dates will be posted on this site.  This event is not reserved for Canadians only.  You guys from south of the border who want to experience the beauty of the foothills of the Canadian Rockies are welcome to join us. There is talk about dove-tailing the Rendezvous with a wilderness fishing trip. Will keep you posted.

All Things Outdoors

Bo Finley is no stranger to the outdoor world.  He is known as a seasoned, premier outdoorsman in his home state of Texas where he has devoted a big chunk of his life to guiding deer and turkey hunters and doing hunting seminars for those who are eager to glean from his expertise.  But most recently, Bo has found a new calling in the outdoor world: to assist those who would not otherwise be able to experience the outdoors.

All Things Outdoors is dedicated to sharing an outdoor experience with children and adults who need a time of refreshing, away from tough or challenging times in their lives. Some might be battling a life threatening illness, some trying to adapt to a life altering situation, others needing time in the outdoors after a heartbreaking tragedy. Bo realizes that we can’t avoid the challenges of life, but for a few days while hunting or fishing, hearts and minds can be encouraged.  ATO is dedicated to utilizing the majesty of God’s creation as a wonderful tool of encouragement and rest.

Bo is stepping out into his calling by faith and he wishes to network with like-minded people who have a heart for assisting the disadvantaged through his outdoor ministry.To fully understand the power of Bo’s vision, you have to witness the joy of a terminally ill child who gets to see his or her dream fulfilled, or a soldier disabled by war who gets to return to the sport he loved and lost because of the compassion of God exemplified by the mission of Bo Finley.  I encourage those of you who are touched by this ministry to contact Bo Finley and get involved.

ATO Mission Statement
To bless and honor handicapped, disadvantaged or hurting children and adults by providing first class hunting or outdoor adventures in a Christian ranch environment.

www.allthingsoutdoors.org
Bo@allthingsoutdoors.org
(817) 597-5112

'Possum Creek Homecoming

I met Mac (short for MacTavish) under the ‘Possum Creek Bridge just as I was heading downstream for an evening of fly-fishing. For the first three hours I didn’t even know his name. He appeared to be a mixture of Border Collie and Lab but I couldn’t be sure.  The only thing I was sure of was the fact that the he really liked me and was not about to leave my side.

Dogs and fly-fishing don’t exactly go together but it was kind of neat to have an instant pal on my first trip back to ‘Possum Creek after being gone from Alberta for 19 years. Okay, ‘Possum Creek is not on any map.  It’s my code name for the creek. If I told you its real name I’d have to kill you.

I walked the creek for about a half mile downstream before turning to face the current and fish my way back to the bridge.  It was at this juncture that I realized that my K-9 pal was going to be a problem.  He went absolutely crazy when I put the fly line in the air and would jump off the bank trying to grab it as it sailed by him.  He sounded like a cannon ball hitting the water behind me and it scared me out of my wits the first time it happened.  For the next two hours I concentrated on my forecast and screamed at the top of my lungs on my back casts, threatening the dog if he jumped for the line.  All in all it was a disconcerting experience and anything but productive as far as the secretive brown trout were concerned.  The dog and I must have sounded like a small war coming up the creek.  In spite of the problem I did manage to catch a couple of unsuspecting Rocky Mountain Whitefish. Obviously, they aren’t wound as tightly as brown trout.

Finally I reached water too deep to wade so I headed for the right hand bank, which was extremely steep.  I laid my rod on the bank, grabbed a couple of handfuls of roots and started pulling myself out of the water on all fours.  I was about half way up the bank when I noticed that the dog was facing straight away 10 feet in front of me and standing on full point.  I thought that was curious since he had not taken his eyes off me since we met.  Stretching to the side I saw what had the dog’s attention – a very large – very irritated skunk, which was doing his tail-high dance that typically means somebody is about to get sprayed.

Several things raced through my mind at that point: 1) How could I have chosen such an ill-fated spot to crawl up the creek bank? 2) How was I going to convince the skunk that I was not the enemy? 3) Would in be better to fall over backwards into the creek and drown or try to wait out the skunk?

The answer came quickly when the skunk charged the dog, and the dog, being my best friend, ran back to me for moral support.  The skunk called off the charge at about five feet and returned to his burrow and disappeared into the bank. It was a very close call and since I was already on my knees I thanked God for not letting the skunk stink up my first trip back to my favorite creek.

Eventually I arrived back at the bridge where the adventure began. Upstream 100 yards or so there was the old bridge that crossed the creek before they put in the new road.  I decided to walk up to the old bridge and take a picture of the gorgeous sunset on the water.  As I stood in the middle of the bridge I noticed a man walking toward me.  He was the dog’s owner and had been wondering where his mutt had gone.  I explained that the dog (whose name turned out to be Mac) had joined me for an evening of fly-fishing.  The man’s name was Jerry and he owned the property on the east side of the creek. He was a cordial sort and asked me if I’d like to join him for a glass of Merlot by the little fire he had going a hundred yards further up the creek bank.  I spent an hour with Jerry and Mac, there by the fire in the glorious afterglow of a sunset on ‘Possum Creek.  As is so often the case, a simple endeavor had taken some curious turns, but that’s what life is all about.  Heck, a fly-fishing trip with no line-grabbing dog, no near miss with a skunk and no Merlot would hardly be worth mentioning.

May 2009 Newsletter

Texas Spring Sportsmen’s Retreat

There’s still time to sign up for the Annual Spring Sportsmen Retreat, May 15-17, 2009, at the beautiful new facility at the Tesoro Escondido Ranch near Mineral Wells, Texas, on the Brazos River.  Don’t miss this opportunity to hone your outdoors skills and participate in a variety of hilarious competitions, which include the Texashog toss, bow and arrow golf, knife throwing, 3-D archery, skeet shooting, fly-casting and much more.  Along with entertaining and educational outdoor events, expect legendary campfire sessions with crazy songs and even crazier tales shared by world-class story tellers.  This special men’s event, hosted by Dudley Hall and Russell Thornberry, provides a relaxed atmosphere of fellowship in which to encourage and challenge men.  Come and bring a friend!   For additional information or booking contact Successful Christian Living Ministries online at www.sclm.org or by phone at (817) 267-9224.

 

Canadian Sportsmen’s Rendezvous

Dudley Hall and Russell Thornberry will host the first western Canadian Sportsmen’s Retreat in Alberta ,  Canada , from June 5-7, 2009, on the  Living Faith Bible College campus west of Caroline, Alberta. For information and bookings contact Living Faith at www.lfbc.net or call (403) 722-2225. 

 

 

“Starting at the Top”

On May 2nd, Susan Hindbo of Caroline, Alberta,Canada, the founder Raven Wear clothing, traveled to Olsburg, Kansas, to hunt with Uwe Haendler of Broken Arrow Outfitters, and in so doing, she hit the gobbler jackpot, bagging a 6-bearded tom with 1 1/8-inch spurs. The gorgeous gobbler tipped the scales at almost 25 pounds!  Not bad for one’s first turkey, eh?  Way to go Susan!

For more information about hunting with Broken Arrow Outfitters contact:

Uwe Haendler, (913) 530-3392

For information about Raven Wear’s ultimate outdoor clothing for silent warmth contact:: Susan Hindbo, Raven Wear, P.O. Box 411, Caroline, Alberta T0M 0M0 - (403) 722-2230 www.ravenwear.ca

Kodiak Alaska Cast & Blast Bargain

The folks at Kodiak Legends Lodge on Kodiak Island Alaska, have made me an offer I can’t refuse and I am passing it on to you -- $1,500 off the regular price of an incredible 5-day fly-out salmon fishing/blacktail deer hunting combo trip on Kodiak Island. The regular price of $5,950 has been reduced to $4,450 for this special trip, which I will be personally hosting. There is maximum capacity of six adventurous outdoorsmen from September 12-16, 2009. This is the opportunity of a lifetime for those hungry for a great Alaskan adventure and a bargain price we may never see again!  This is silver salmon and blacktail deer paradise. For complete details click on RTO Trips.

The Truth about Broadhead Effectiveness

If you are wondering if your choice of broadheads is the best for you, read this month’s Field Tips. This is an in depth study of the essential characteristics of effective broadheads will enable you to select the “right” broadhead based upon real science, rather than advertising hype.

              

Home Front Happenings

 

 

 

Something Wonderfully Fishy

If there is anything more fun that taking your grandchildren fishing on a beautiful mountain lake, high in the Colorado Rockies, I haven’t discovered it -- and I hope I never do. Pictured are my daughter Michelle’s four kids (from left to right): Russell, Elliott, Sam and Ivy, with a bevy of rainbow trout. To coin an overused cliché, “It just doesn’t get any better than this!”

 

 

         

Record Snowball

My 4-year-old grandson, Sam Patterson, is making the most of the spring snowfall that buried Colorado in three feet of snow as he poses with unbridled joy atop a record-sized snowball in his front yard. Sam will undoubtedly continue to find great joy in deep snow, at least until he’s old enough to shovel the driveway.

Mule Deer Rodeo

Shar and I had just finished a long 1^st day of moving household furnishings from a storage rental unit into our new house.  Friends and family who had been helping us were gone and we were about to head back to Green Mountain Falls to the little cabin we were renting temporarily.  Just as we were locking up, we saw movement on the lawn below our deck.  There were mule deer running in every direction like a bunch of scared rabbits.  As we watched in amazement we saw that there was one buck with about 4-inch velvet antler stubs chasing the rest of the herd, all females, as if it were November in the heat of the rut.  But on the first of May?  The rodeo continued for another five minutes or so and then the procession headed downhill to a neighbor’s place.  What a welcoming committee.  Earlier I had noticed that a small pine on the property had been rubbed badly and was dying.  It looked as if a buck had rubbed his antlers on that tree.  Apparently that was exactly right.  Obviously, there would be wildlife in the neighborhood. We saw a gorgeous red fox prancing along the road below our new home as we drove away.  Wow, it was like living in a zoo!

And Now a Bear!

Okay, so now it is May 4th. We spent the afternoon moving more of our belongings into the new house at Woodland Park and we were back at the cabin watching the news.  I saw something through the window blinds in front of our cabin.  I opened the blinds for a closer look and there was a huge cinnamon colored black bear sniffing around and walking around the house like he owned the place. Sharleen was beside herself to see the huge bear so up close and personal. “We’re living in a zoo here,” she said, “but we’re the ones who have to stay in the cage.

The woman has a point, alright.  Relaxing in the hot tub after dark will never be the same.

 

Until next month's edition -- God bless you one and all.

RT

Africa's Swine Divine

 

 

I have always loved warthogs. It was the first African game animal that beckoned me toward the Dark Continent. I don't know what it is about those butt-ugly critters that attracts me, but I had often said I'd go to Africa for nothing more than a warthog safari, if I ever got the chance. I did in September 2002. My lifelong hunting and fishing partner, Gary Sitton, invited me to join him on our first hunting trip to South Africa. With visions of warthogs dancing in my head, I signed on. We would be bowhunting from blinds and treestands near water holes.

We planned to hunt in late August (late winter/early spring there), before the rainy season began. This is typically a great time to hunt South Africa because the leaves are still off the trees, offering better visibility. Plus, it is quite dry, guaranteeing lots of activity around water holes. Like any newcomer to South African hunting, I was astounded at the quantity and variety of wildlife. I never knew what sightings a shift at a water hole blind would produce. I saw kudu, gemsbok, impala, hartebeest, blue wildebeest, waterbuck, zebra, eland, baboons, monkeys and guinea fowl by the hundreds -- and female warthogs with little pigs. Naturally, it was a good boar that I was after, and for reasons known only to them, they just didn't show up at the water holes I was occupying. Even though a really big boar (the uglier the better) was at the top of my wish list, I had little time for distress, with scads of other game coming and going, some of which I took. But that's another story or two.  When the female warthogs with piglets came in to drink, their routine was most entertaining. You see, warthogs always travel as if they are in a hurry and running late to get somewhere. You never see them doddling along unless you catch them feeding unaware. They are almost always on the trot.Unlike other animals that approach the water holes with utmost stealth, slinking in behind the cover of trees and bushes, warthogs seem to make up their minds that they are thirsty and that’s that. They trot in quickly, kneel on their front legs to drink, stand up and stretch and then walk right into the middle of the water hole and lie down long enough to cool their undercarriage. And while lying there, the look on their eyes is that of is sheer hog ecstasy. After lying in the water for a few seconds, they walk out and stop and shake themselves, then pause to choose their direction of exit, and off they go as quickly as they came. I just loved watching them. They tickled me, and I often had to restrain myself to keep from laughing out loud at the homely hogs. Even the piglets were "coyote ugly." The saying, "a face that only a mother could love," must have been coined with warthogs in mind. Near-sighted mothers at that!

 

 

After a week or so of being conditioned to seeing females and young, two boars came rushing in to the water hole from the left of our blind. I didn't even see them coming. Thankfully, Gerhard, my professional hunter, saw them and alerted me. They parked perfectly, shoulder to shoulder, at the edge of the water, perhaps 15 yards from us. "Shoot the second one," Gerhard whispered.

 

 

I could see the head and right shoulder of the second boar. The nearest one obscured the rest of his body. Had I shot the near hog, I would likely have wounded the second with the same arrow, so Gerhard's call was exactly right. I settled my top sight pin on the second hog's shoulder and watched the arrow zip through him. At the snap of my string, the closest hog bolted ahead, right through the middle of the water hole as he exited at warp speed. My hog made a short run, bounced off a tree and gave up the ghost. I couldn't believe it. I had taken my first warthog boar! And was he ever ugly. In that regard, he met all my expectations. While not a giant in terms of tusks, he was certainly a fine representative specimen, which I have already made a space for on my office wall.

Later in the hunt, I was searching for a good mature eland bull. We had just pulled away from a wonderful lunch on the banks of the Limpopo River when I spotted a big warthog boar on the top of the riverbank. At 50 yards, there was no opportunity for a shot with my bow because he had also seen us and was hiding in a small gnarly thorn bush, waiting to see our next move before he bolted for parts unknown.

I grabbed my .416 Remington Magnum and found a little opening in the bush that exposed the point of the hog's shoulder. I touched the trigger and he hit the ground like a sack of wet cement. What happened next was one of the funniest things I have ever seen.

 

 

Many giraffes also occupied the ranch on which I was hunting. A three-strand electric fence had been erected to keep them from accidentally touching a power line overhead. Apparently one such accident had occurred, killing the giraffe, thus the electric fence. In addition, there was a four-strand barbed wire fence along the riverbank, which had been erected by the government to keep animals from spreading hoof and mouth disease between South Africa and Botswana. The problem was that the government fence didn't stop anything from going anywhere. Warthogs went under it, elephants went through it and everything else either stepped or jumped over it. Alas, bureaucracies are the same everywhere.

The hog was beyond both the government fence and the giraffe hot-wires. Gerhard and the trackers quickly made their way to the warthog and whooped with elation. This one was Mr. Warthog. They grabbed him by the tusks and pulled him under the government fence. The bottom wire on the giraffe fence was only about 3 inches off the ground, and since I had on rubber-soled boots I simply stepped on the wire and held it to the ground as they attempted to drag the warthog over it.

 

 

The hog was about halfway across that hot wire when a jolt of electricity hit him and it appeared for a split second that he'd simply come back to life. I heard the snap when the juice hit the pig, and he leapt to his feet, scattering trackers and my P.H. like quail.

For that millisecond before everyone realized that the hog was still amply deceased, it was quite a show, which ended in howls of laughter.  Once the hog was safely through fences and hot wires, I admired him up close. What a splendid specimen he was, with great tusks and four glorious warts (females only have two). This was my dream warthog, to be sure -- far too wonderful to display only in part, so I decided on a full body mount. There were two remaining issues with which to grapple: (1) Where to display the beast, and (2) How to break the news to my bride that it would be in our living room.

 

By the time the mount is complete, the negotiations between the missus and me should be winding down. Her lawyers and mine will undoubtedly work out all the details and life will return to "almost" normal.

 

 

Editor’s Note: The author booked his hunt with professional hunter Johan Schoonbee. For more information, write Johan Schoonbee Safaris, P.O. Box, Alldays, 0909, Republic of South Africa ; call (from the U.S.) 011-27-1476-71462; or e-mail johan@johanschoonbeesafaris.com.

Back to the Rockies

Pike’s Peak photographed from Woodland Park, CO.

March was a memorable month for my wife, Sharleen, and me for several reasons. First, we moved from Montgomery, Alabama to Woodland Park, Colorado – from the sultry south to the crisp mountain air of the Colorado Rockies and secondly, our daughter Michelle, her husband Barry and their four children live in this area of Colorado, so we get to be with family again and enjoy the daily panoramic view of Pike’s Peak. The first morning after our arrival we awakened to the company of seven docile mule deer does and yearlings nibbling away in our front yard.  What a welcoming committee. A day or so later a red fox cased our yard and front porch as if he were in charge of inspections. I’m liking this a lot.

 It was like ultimate mountain springtime when we arrived but within a few days THE storm that affected the entire nation blew in and dumped a big snowfall on us.  So for the first time since I lived in Alberta (19 years ago) I ended up on the business end of a snow shovel.  Hard work?  You bet.  But, I’d rather shovel snow any day than play roulette with the hail storms and tornados that were fueled by the storm as it made its way southeast. We are loving life in the mountains and I am keeping an eye on some promising trout streams that apparently need my undivided attention.  Hey, I’m here to serve!

Sportsmen’s Outreach Events
I was invited to speak at three Sportsmen’s Outreach Events in February and March and each of them were tremendous. I offer my sincere thanks to Gerry Calliouett of God’s Great Outdoors for including me in his Road to Adventure event at Santuck Baptist Church in Santuck, AL. It was great to meet men who desire to use their outdoors passions in Christian outreach. For more information see   www.godsgreatoutdoors.com

It was a pleasure to return to First United Methodist Church of Montgomery, AL, for their Annual Wild Game Dinner.  The food was exceptional and they were a wonderfully attentive audience.
My friend, Rod Kerr, of First Baptist Church, Salisbury, NC invited me to be the keynote speaker at their 7th Annual Sportsman Banquet.  It was like a homecoming for me since I was invited to their banquet several years ago. They have the proud distinction of feeding more people faster than I have ever seen.  This year they served the crowd of 500 plus people in a record setting 12.5 minutes.  If you’re planning a Sportsmen’s Banquet and want to know how to handle strategically feeding lots of people in a hurry, contact Rod Kerr.

In this year of return visits I was invited to speak at Bethany Baptist Church in Peoria, Illinois. It was my third invitation to Bethany, and while I accepted all three invitations, I only attended twice. On the first occasion my plane was delayed on the tarmac in Montgomery for seven hours and then when we boarded and started to taxi to the runway, the plane caught fire and we were returned immediately to the departure gate from which we’d come.  At that point there were no other flight options to Peoria.  On this last trip I missed my flight from Chicago to Peoria and finally finished the trip on a bus.  In spite of all the difficulties I encounter enroute to Peoria, I always sense that God has a special purpose for taking me there.  Thanks to Terry Setterlund and Pastor Steve Dietz for inviting me.

Big Surprise in a Small Package

“Shootability” defines the essence of BowTech’s new Admiral

Being a long armed sort, I have shied away from the trend of shorter and shorter compound bows. I have found them to be relatively temperamental and somewhat unstable. My rule of thumb in choosing a bow has always been that the axle length must exceed one’s draw length.  The closer those two measurements are to one another the less interest I have in the product – UNTIL NOW. Enter BowTech Archery’s Admiral, the big surprise in a small package. With its Center Pivot Riser technology, BowTech has produced a short bow that doesn’t feel short!  The riser feels like that of a longer bow, stable and steady in the hand.  Though I wasn’t overly optimistic before I shot the Admiral at the ATA show, the first shot had me from hello. I was shocked.  I suppose I could offer any number of technical reasons for why the Admiral has overcome what I call the “short bow syndrome,” but I’ll simply reduce it down to one simple word: “Shootability.”  It just shoots like a dream.

I can claim official senior citizenship, which comes with some drawbacks, like eyes that aren’t as sharp as they once were and less arm and shoulder strength as in my younger days. The result has shown itself in inconsistent target accuracy. I chalked it up to my age.  But when I started shooting the Admiral my groups tightened up and my effective range increased immediately.  So what about old eyes and muscles that I thought were causing me grief?  Shootability is the only conclusion I can come up with.  The Admiral feels comfortable and stable in my hand and I feel rock solid at full draw.  It fits me like an old slipper.  It just goes to show you –you can never say never.  The Admiral is the shortest bow I have ever owned and I’ve never shot better. For more information check out the Admiral, as well as the entire Bowtech line, at www.bowtecharchery.com.

A Year for Bargain Hunts
With the economy in such terrible shape, many big game outfitters are experiencing cancellations and are offering excellent hunts at reduced prices.  That means that you might be able to book that dream hunt at much less than the normal prices. I recommend that you review my list of approved outfitters by clicking on the Resources button on the top of the page.  Make some calls and see what’s available for the fall of 2009.  I expect you’ll find some real bargains.

A Weekend with Rock Stars

Master flintknapper, Stan Payne, displays one of his beautiful obsidian spearheads, which he made in the tradition of ancient Native Americans.

Ever been to a knap-in? Me neither until March 6th when my friend and flintknapping mentor, Stan Payne, of Slap Out, Alabama, (I’m not making this up) organized the First Annual Flint Stone and Bone Creations Knap-in at Southern Sportsman Lodge at Tyler, Alabama. Flintknappers from all over the country come for a weekend of making stone arrowheads, spear points and knives of every imaginable kind of exotic rocks.  Their work is captivating to observe and nothing less than an art form.  The event is free to the public who come to observe the ancient art of flintknapping and to purchase stone treasures made by the artisan knappers.  There is no greater opportunity for fledgling flintknapper wannabes like me to come and learn from the pros.  This unusual gathering of gentle souls is only too happy to share knowledge with anyone who is interested in learning. For more information about Stan Payne and flintknapping see www.flintstoneandbonecreations.com .

Modern flintknappers at work.

In addition to the flintknapping theme originated by Native Americans of days gone by, Stan Payne, the knap-in organizer, raffled off a set of incredible matching obsidian knives that he created.  The raffle proceeds were donated to the Cancer Society in memory of Stan’s mother and the memory of legendary flintknapper, Bill Metcalf, both of whom lost their lives to cancer.

If you get a chance to visit a knap-in in your area, you should go.  To see primitive Native American stone tool making being carried on with such passion is well worth the price of admission – especially considering it is free.