A Hunting Story with No End

As with all stories, this one will have a beginning and a middle, but hopefully no end. Because if it ends, I’ve lost some real good, life long friends. I don’t want it to ever end.

As many of you know, we own a game call company called Bud & Betty Hunting Calls. Bud & Betty has been a real good company and it has given us a lot of good friends over the years. This is a story about some of those friends.

I met brothers Dwayne and Russ Feltner about 11 years ago, not long after we started getting into the turkey call industry. They were our favorite kind of customers: Repeat. And they kept inviting me to come hunt with them.

After a couple of years I decided, what the heck, and took them up on it. I’ve never regretted it. It’s been one of the best friendships I’ve made in my hunting career.  Never mind my associations within the hunting industry, it’s been one of the best hunting friendships I’ve ever had.


These guys and their family are just the best people that anyone could ever want to be associated with. They are hard working and they love the outdoors. Russ and Dewayne have been in the woods about like me: most of their natural life. They’ve been through the phase of trapping, bow hunting, shooting (and their good wing shots), just anything to do with the outdoors, they are out there doing it. They are very good at it and the most important thing I think they would tell you they've done is pass it on to the next generation of Feltners. And they have done that.


Russ, the father of Jeremy, Brett & Jake, and Dewayne their uncle, have carried those boys to the woods since they were very young. Many of us know it’s not easy to carry a kid hunting, but it’s a necessary thing that you have to do because you want that love of the outdoors to be passed on to the next generation. And the boys hit it hard. They are young and they stay in the woods every chance they get each fall. They coon hunt prior to deer season; they scout; they hunt deer; and their trophy room at Russ’s house is second to none as far as killing big whitetails in the Midwest.

The ladies that support these men, the Feltner women, are just a super bunch of women that are also active in deer hunting and outdoor activities. They’re either born into or have embraced the farm life. The Feltner Brothers raise show sheep and they are very active with the 4-H clubs in their area. They seem to have been very good to a lot of youth in their area, helping to keep them active with outdoor activities and livestock and farming. Just a super family that’s been very good to me and my family.

We developed a relationship over the years which has led to me and my family going up for weddings and watching high school football games and just various other events and things over the years. It’s much deeper than just a hunting relationship. It has a lot to do with sharing the same values and interests in hunting. It’s grown into a good, mutual friendship between us all. 2010 was my 9th year of hunting with the Feltners in the Midwest.

So, the normal routine over the last 9 years has been I’ll take off and leave for Indiana on Thursday and about 8 hours later I arrive at the farm. Aaaahhhh. Russ and I begin the serious business of hanging out.


We ride around, check the fields, see if any bucks are starting to cruise, looking for does, and just shoot the bull, catching up in person instead of on the phone.


I think me and Russ and Dewayne all look forward to this week each year. Russ takes the whole week off and we hunt together for 6 or 7 days and it’s just exciting being there because in their area they truly do have some outstanding beautiful whitetails.


Then Russ’ boys come over and we all spend the evening together, eating, hanging out, catching up. It’s great.

On Friday morning we make any last minute preparations, which usually involves going to a hunting store to look at all the equipment that we don’t need, but we go have a look anyway. Then checking my stand, putting up a new stand (I try to put up a new stand each year somewhere different on the farmland there in the hopes of it being there the next year), one last look. We just get ready for the hunt.


Friday night before the season opens on Saturday, the house is pretty much invaded by hunting friends from the area for a big meal (mmmm, always good stuff!) that Russ’ wife Linda and Brett’s wife Danielle and some other girlfriends and wives and everyone hangs out that evening telling deer stories from the past, look at pictures of past hunts and talk about funny things that have happened over the years. Man, it’s just neat to sit back and look around the table at these young men, Jeremy, Brett and Jake and look at old pictures-Jake was only in 9th grade when I started coming here! And here he is all grown up to a young man, works in the coal mine, constructing slopes for coal mines. Brett & Jeremy work as linemen for power companies-just sit back and look at them how they’ve gown up to be good contributing members of society, good fathers, good uncles, good sons. Just sit back and look at them; it’s much bigger than a deer hunt.

Then, eventually, the red plastic solo cup comes out. Someone gets a magic marker and writes the words Big Buck Pot on the side of the cup. And all in good fun, everyone gets their $5 out and throws it in the cup. It’s only good for the biggest buck killed on the first two days of the season, Sat or Sun, winner takes all. And most of the time, it really doesn’t take a tape measure to know who the winner is.


First day of the season 2010 opened with it threatening rain.  It stayed pretty much cloudy, temperature got down into the high 30’s and warmed up during the day, pretty uneventful morning but it was evident that the bucks were starting to actively chase does and we knew the rut was just hours form starting. No bucks killed Saturday morning.


The Saturday afternoon hunt started with light but steady showers that turned into what I grew up calling a ‘butt wetter’. Rain equipment was broken out and everyone got on their stands and put up with the rain all Saturday afternoon. Not much activity but again, what bucks were seen were younger and were chasing does and we knew that the next couple of days were going to be awesome.

 As we woke up Sunday and stepped outside the boys started coming in from their houses around the area. They started telling us about the light frost on the ground, and we knew it was ON!  We ate a light breakfast and everybody hit the woods. Although there were less shots that morning, we figured less people were hunting. But Brett connected with a good buck probably in the high 140’s, maybe 150 on a farm not far from the house and his brother Jake killed a nice respectable 8 point at another farm in the area. We didn’t hear about any other good bucks riding in trucks on Sunday.  Everybody else saw a tremendous amount of buck-chasing-does activity, and that just means that the next couple of days was going to mean sitting in a tree as long as you could stand it, hopefully that meant all day.


Monday the day was even colder than Sunday, just a nice, cool, crisp morning. A lot of deer activity and I think that everybody knew that the rut was in full swing and had pretty much committed to staying in their stands all day. I know my pack was full of snacks and I intended to go the distance.

On that morning I went to a stand that I’ve come to call the “Money Stand”. The Money Stand is located on a small farm not far from the house that is primarily all hardwoods. On the top of the ridge, there is a lot happening with terrain: there is a big CRP field behind the stand, on top of that ridge there is an old logging road, and a little lane winds down the top of the ridge. Sitting in the stand facing the logging road to the right is a big draw, that is fairly thick and it borders a field of grown-up little hardwood saplings and brush and a small pond. To the front is a beautiful hardwood ridge that runs a couple of yards to the property line and all along the right side of that ridge is a thick area that makes a good travel corridor for deer to come up the ridge towards the stand. To the left you can see about 150 yards; all mature hardwoods, fairly open, but not a lot of deer activity on that side usually. Back behind the stand a thick connector ridge that connects the CRP field to the ridge where the stand is. It is one of those true stands that a guy has in his career as a deer hunter that he thinks about all throughout the off-season, day-dreams about just getting back in that stand and staying there as long as you can. And this morning is the morning I’d spend in the Money Stand.

As I’m sitting there and daylight is coming on, activity is starting, wildlife is starting to move around. This ridge is notorious in that area that we hunt for having some of the biggest, prettiest fox squirrels. And as any of you know fox squirrels, when they are active, are LOUD. They are just so big and pretty to watch, and for a Southern boy everything in the Midwest has more fur on it. It’s just neat to watch the squirrels, but they can get aggravating cause every one of them that moves sounds like a deer!

The first (real) sign of a deer that morning was just a glimpse of something, just a flash off to my left and down a big valley where the open hardwood ridge is. I heard a squirrel just break out barking and even though we hear a lot of squirrels bark, if you’ve been in the woods long enough you can tell when one barks that’s been surprised. Shortly after that bark, I saw a little movement and looked and a big doe came walking up the ridge and took a right and turned directly in front of me and walked broadside about 20 yards. She fed in a big half circle and went into the big CRP field on top the hill.


Not long after she disappeared, here came a nice young white-horned 8 point and he had his nose on the ground and started trailing this doe. And this is when things really started happening. As he got in the middle of the road with me at about 15 or 20 yards, 4 does stepped out in the logging road in front of me close to the grown-up field. As far as I could see, the buck immediately took off after the does and as he took off running they scattered in all different directions. It looked like a covey of quail flushing, he pushed them so hard.

From that point, small bucks pushing does and does running from bucks kept me entertained all morning. It was one of those mornings where I just knew it was a matter of time before what I was looking for came down the ridge.  The one 8 point had made his appearance 4 or 5 different times chasing different does, just having a big time and you could always tell he was coming cause he was grunting about every step.


At some point he picked up a big doe, she was noticeable larger than the others and he pushed her down the logging road away from me. They’d been gone about 5 minutes and I heard a big commotion in front of me just out of sight in the hardwoods. A couple of minutes later this young 8 point with his nose to the ground as always, came running down the logging road at a fast trot and disappeared back towards the gravel road in the draw to my right.

All morning I had dedicated myself to taking digital photos of the deer coming through the area, the does, the 8 point. I photographed him several times and kept trying to get him from the rear cause that deer was kind of odd, he only had about a three inch tail.  So as I looked up, I heard something coming and it was the big doe coming down the hardwood ridge directly to my left. As she came in my sight, I picked up the camera and started photographing her as she walked by at about 30-40 yards. I caught movement behind her (which should have been expected), and saw the white tips of some tines coming through the woods, so I turned my camera to the left, expecting it to be the grunting deer that had been chasing her all morning and started snapping pictures. As I was taking some photos of this deer, he got closer and closer and he’d stop behind trees and I’d wait for him to come out and take a few more pictures and when he got broadside about 30 yards to my left in the open hardwoods all of a sudden I decided the camera was not the best option in this case.

I set the camera down, reached around and got the rifle off the tree step, spun and immediately cocked the hammer, got the rifle on the deer’s shoulder and fired. At that moment I couldn’t believe that I had just about let this buck walk off standing there taking memories of him with a camera! It would have been a tragic morning had I not come to my senses!

Near tragedy turned into a great morning in the woods: as the rifle went off, the deer dropped. As always, I stood there for a minute, looked up and said thank you God for this. Seeing what I had seen all morning and knowing that I was the only one in the world that had witnessed it…that’s pretty awesome.

Then I got nervous. Nervous about how close I’d come to letting this deer wander off, and then I thought that maybe I’ve just matured as a deer hunter. Maybe photographing them and seeing them is what it’s all about and to kill one is pretty fun too. Hmmm. Well, either way, I had had a great morning photographing deer and was just glad it ended with a good shot.

I gathered up all my stuff, packed up my backpack and got ready to go down. I called Brett and Jake to come help me get this deer (they are young and strong) cause this deer was at the bottom of a gully. I didn’t even approach the deer until I knew they had made their 15-20 minute trip to me.

I saw them come in off the ridge by the CRP field. They dropped down the ridge and I started walking to the deer and I pointed to them to look and they looked down and they immediately knew that I’d killed a decent Midwest whitetail.

We all approached the deer together, got down, and of course grabbed his horns. Everybody took their turn holding on to him and turning him and looking him in the face, checking out this beautiful Midwest 8 point.

We had about a 15–30 minute photo session, then I gutted the deer and the two young men drug him to the top of this steep hill while I went and got the truck. We loaded him up and took him back to the Feltners farm. As we were riding back me and Brett were in the truck together and just talking about all the past and just really hit me how many memories I’d shared with this family.

I’ll never forget the memory Nov 12th, 2005 when Jeremy, the oldest boy, had gone to the same farm where I’d just killed this 8 point and he come rolling back into the barn that night and you could see horns sticking up out of the back of his big ford diesel truck. Man, in the back of that truck was 197 inch non-typical whitetail, now listed in the Boone & Crockett record book.


Now maybe many of you have been in a camp when a true Boone & Crockett rolled into camp, but it was my first time to experience someone truly killing a once-in-a-lifetime deer.


I remember us all looking at that buck and just congratulating Jeremy. His dad, brothers, uncle, his mom, his wife even his little boy Coleman (maybe 2 years old), -everybody was there, sharing in and enjoying the excitement.

The next morning I remember getting the deer out of the barn and taking it to a cut corn field for pictures and having a big lengthy photo session. There were a couple of other deer killed that year, but of course that one still hasn’t been knocked off the top!

I could tell more stories, and might in the future. But ya know, of all the memories that I’ve had with the Feltner Family, I never remember a bad one. Maybe you are lucky enough to know people like this. As deer hunters you understand each other and you kind of stand for the same things in life outside of hunting. You believe in the same things, in the same value system.

So as you develop these relationships with friends that you meet though the great sport of hunting, cherish and treat them well. The friendships and the bonds are much deeper than a deer hunt, it’s a relationship that is built over many years and will last for many years to come.

If you’re a true dedicated deer hunter you know many stories like the one I just told, but the most important part is that the story doesn’t have an ending, it’s a story I hope I can tell more next year and still not have an ending.

Oh, and on Monday morning before I went out to the Money Stand, we were sitting around the kitchen table talking, having coffee, a little bit of breakfast. As we sat there the money from the Big Buck Pot was still in that red Solo cup. And Russ told Brett, “there’s your money”. Now I told you already, these are super guys with a lot of integrity and Brett totally could have gotten away with it, but didn’t try. “Ya know, I don’t remember putting $5 in the cup, I don’t think I put my money in”. Silence. Little brother Jake reached over, grabbed the cup, took the money out and stuck it in his pocket. He knew that even though he had taken the second biggest deer, his brother had been a cheapskate and that made him the winner! We all just broke out laughing. Accounting for all who put money in the cup, sure enough Brett had failed on this one year to cough up his five bucks! Lesson learned.

Forever A Marine

On this date, 235 years ago, in a small tavern in Philadelphia, a man by the name of Samuel Nichols gathered a group of dedicated men who stood ready to serve their country.  On that night, the very first man was enlisted into what is now known as the Worlds Finest Fighting Force: the United States Marine Corps.  Led by Nichols, they had no idea what they had begun.

To become a U.S. Marine the test is hard; everything you've heard about USMC boot camp is true.  Without experiencing it yourself, you can't really understand it and I can't really explain it.  But the rewards are worth the blood, sweat and tears it takes to pass.  And you will never be the same.  Never.

You see, the saying is true: "Once a Marine, Always a Marine".  In fact, the title "U.S. Marine" is forever and even beyond.  Marines are never forgotten, they live among us even after their service on earth is complete.

After my enlistment as an active Marine was over in 1988, my "Prior Marine" status had just begun.  It's where I am now, it will continue until my earthly enlistment has ended.

To become a U.S. Marine requires that a person make a life-long commitment to something bigger than themselves.  Most of us don't get that going in.  It requires commitment to God, Country and Corps.  And then the day comes when we join the ranks of "Prior Marine", and now we add service to family and community to our list of commitments.  We have influence over everyone we come in contact with, no matter where, no matter what age. 

For we are Marines for life.  We are accountable for our actions, or lack thereof, for life and beyond.  The Marine Corps doesn't expect you to quit being a Marine once your enlistment is complete, Marines are ingrained from the first day of boot camp into a special brotherhood with a special bond, they are trained with integrity and are expected to carry on as trained, forever. 

The Marine Corps expects it's men and women to carry on after their enlistment is complete, to become leaders in society, to continue to be first to help, first to assist and first to fight, only now in our own communities instead of on foreign soil. 

For those who have not been a Marine, always remember this: for 235 years, the Marine Corps has not only provided the world with the "Finest Fighting Force", they have made a difference in countless walks of life, in the past, now and forever. 

They are proud, but humble and each and every Marine since 1775 is a true American hero.

For those of you that have earned the title of U.S. Marine, you know what is expected of you, so get to it.  It's in you to continue to serve as a Marine, now and until your death. And when your time on this earth is done, another Marine will be taking on the title of "Prior" and he/she will take it from there, and forever and beyond.  Our duty to service, our fellow Marines and all Americans is never ending.

There has never been a better time in world history to serve this great country than now.  Our country is wounded and torn and needs our service now like never before.  Remember to commit yourself to a cause bigger than yourself, and this country is just that.  America is and always will be, bigger and more important than any one person.  We have the skills and the dedication to make a difference, so reach down inside yourself and get it done.

As our USMC history has shown, there is not problem or situation that a dedicated, committed, organized group of Marines can't get control of.

I would suggest we start at a place that we know best:  right where we are.  Show every American to your north, south, east and west to see America like a Marine does.  Let them see America through your eyes.  By doing this one thing, you have committed yourself to a cause bigger than yourself.  Just imagine an American with the same pride and integrity as they instill in Marines from day one of boot camp; an American that is proud of this country; an American that is dedicated to getting it straightened out.  And we will come through these trying times we find ourselves in, stronger and wiser.

Our country has a lot of problems right now, but nothing that Americans can't handle.  If we look at these problems as a battle, through the eyes of a Marine, it is the perfect battle to fight and as always, one with victory on the other side.

First, we won't be on foreign soil and we won't be fighting a foreign enemy.  We'll be fighting with Americans.  Secondly, we already have Marines embedded with Americans (ourselves).  As Marines, we come from all walks of life, religions, and races; we are everywhere.  Third, we the Marines, know better than anyone how to fight battles that politicians from one country or another start, but we can finish.  

Although the perfect battle, it will still be a hard and long one.  Americans need jobs, healthcare, food, housing, ....the one thing that the Marines can provide to all Americans, is pride and hope.  And the best way to continue is to serve our fellow Americans is to simply let them see this country we love, through our eyes.  It costs nothing but time; we are Expert Americans, Professional Americans, and we have much to share.

As for the war we are fighting on foreign soil, every Marine needs to thank our civilian Americans for their support and prayers for ALL service members that have fought and are fighting, and those that gave their all.

To all other branches of the US Military, thank you.  Thank you for all you've done, thank you for all you continue do.  And please help us to continue to serve, now and forever, for you have the same great love for this country as we do.

Let the 235th Birthday of the "Worlds Finest Fighting Force" be the day we recommit ourselves to serve our country and fellow Americans.  Help one American a day, every day.  Instill in them, as it was ingrained in us, to remain faithful to the mission: don't just be a good American, be a dedicated, pride-filled and committed one. 

Happy Birthday, Semper Fi!

Forever a Marine,

Russell Lynch
Active Prior Service Marine
10 Nov 2010

Hunting with Kids: Memories in the Making

Like a lot of guys this year, I am sharing my hunting season and love of the outdoors with my child.  Morgan is my youngest, having just turned 9 a month ago, so this is not my first child to introduce to my love of hunting.  I've been through this before, but it's been a while as my oldest, Mitch, is now 28 and my daughter, Lacy, is 25 - Morgan is our "bonus round", if you know what I mean.

The South Carolina Muzzleloader Season opened on October 1st, but Morgan doesn't know that.  But what he does know is that if the weather is getting cooler, it must be about time for deer season, and he'd already started asking me "Hey Dad, when are we going hunting?".

Well of course, like all young'uns, he outgrows his hunting clothes every year, so very first thing, we started our season with a trip to our local Academy Sports for a set of new duds.

On Saturday morning, I got up early and went in to wake him up - he almost jumped out of the bed he was so excited!  I told him to go have some cereal while I got dressed, and when I got back to the living room, there was Morgan, completely dressed in his new camo - with all the tags still hanging from everything!  He looked like a regular Minnie Pearl! 

After removing all the price tags and with a bowl of Frosted Flakes behind us, armed with beef jerky and Gushers, we set out through the dark, clear morning.  There's something special about being outside that early, when the stars are still out, something real special about a crisp, fall morning.

We parked at the barn, took one last bathroom break, and headed out through the woods in the dark.  I was surprised that Morgan didn't want his own flashlight, but I think he was worried about spooking the deer, so he just followed me closely to our stand.  And our wait began.

You remember being small in the stand?  Remember how slowly time passes?  It's not an easy thing to keep a young kid occupied in a deer stand, but this year I've got a secret weapon: Morgan is working on his Cub Scout Whittling Chip, so he's happy to whittle away the time making pointy sticks.

I love dawn in a deer stand.  Clear.  Cool.  Crisp.  Quiet, but not quiet.  Listening to the woods waking up, birds and small game stirring around, coming alive in the morning air.

Not long after daylight, we had a young spike come out in front of us about 70 yards away in our food plot.  He entertained us awhile feeding, then wandered off.  Morgan was excited to see his first deer of the season and he vowed to come back and get that one himself next time. (Morgan didn't bring a rifle, opting to ease back into it by just watching me this first morning).

For a while Morgan entertained himself with my binos, like all kids, he enjoyed examining the world at high magnification.  Then more whittling.

Then we saw a couple of deer running around, all playful.  Sure enough, a doe ran out with a little buck chasing her, they ran around in circles a bit.  Morgan asks "Dad, why is that buck chasing that doe?"  "Well, this time of year the bucks are picking themselves out a girlfriend, then they get together and make little baby deer for next year." .....long pause....then Morgan says "dum dum de-dum"...oh yeah, he's quietly singing the wedding march with a knowing look on his face. 

At one point, Morgan's head jerked up and he looked out towards the left.  Excited whispering:  "Dad!  Do you hear that buck?"  I listened.  "No buddy, was it a bird?"  "No Dad, it was a buck!  He's rubbing his horns on a tree!  I HEAR him!"  I listened again, but nothing.  Then about 30 minutes later I did hear it, the distinct sound of a buck rubbing a tree.  Morgan had been right!  I looked to the left and sure enough, a buck raised his head and it was a pretty decent little 7 or 8 point!

"Morgan, don't move!" I whispered, "You were right, it's a buck - a good one!"  Morgan couldn't see him for the brush, but he saw me raise my rifle and knew it was time to be extra quiet and extra still.  I reduced the power on my scope and got in position for my shot.  I was using my CVA Accura V2 and had it loaded with 100 grains of Blackhorn 209 powder and a Hornady SST 250 grain bullet.  I had to wait a few minutes for the deer to turn just right for a good shot, and I glanced down at Morgan.  His sat with his fingers in his ears in preparation for my shot, eyes big as saucers.  I put the crosshairs on the buck's shoulder and squeezed the trigger.  That buck dropped right in his tracks.

Morgan jumped up and started straining to see the buck on the edge of the woods.  He started bouncing up and down in the stand, he was so excited!  Luckily for him (and me), there was no need to wait, so we got down and headed over to see our prize.

It was a good deer for South Carolina, not the biggest rack, but his body was sizable and Morgan was beside himself with excitement!  We took pictures with my cell phone and sent them to his mom and some of my buddies that I knew were out hunting that same morning.  We had our little kill-sight celebration, and began to walk to the truck dragging the deer.

No more bird song in these woods; no more playful squirrels or any other animals of any kind making any noise or moving, cause Morgan was just buzzing with chatter about the deer, the hunt, what he saw, what we did, what the deer did....he must have asked me a million questions before we got that deer to the truck.  I finally let him call his mother to tell her all about it so I could concentrate on getting that buck up into my truck.


We headed to the house and my wife met us in the driveway with a hot cup of coffee for me and hot chocolate for Morgan.  You could tell he thought he was big, sipping warm liquid on the back of the truck-bed telling his mom the whole story again, Spiderman cup and all.

 

A real photo session followed, then we headed out to the processor.  Again, Morgan was zero help actually moving the deer, but he put forth good effort.  Turned out that deer weighed 200 lbs!  That's pretty big for a deer in our area, no wonder I was struggling with him!

 Again, full of questions and excited chatter with the guys at the processing place, the only time Morgan was quiet was when he did his (thorough) examination of the deer's head once the processor cut the horns off for him.  You all remember that don't you?  Sure brought back memories of being with my uncles when I was his age.

Then on to Waffle House, the way we end all our morning hunts.  We called my buddy who'd been bowhunting that morning, and he met us for breakfast and listened intently to Morgan's excited version of our morning.  He's a good friend and treats Morgan like he's grown, which Morgan loves.  We all enjoyed our late breakfast, although it's a little hard to watch Morgan eat waffles, bacon and pickles together at any time of day.

Well you'd have thought Morgan would be ready to head back into the 3rd grade world of cartoons and video games, but nope.  He wanted to spend the afternoon getting HIS muzzleloader ready so he could go back after that first spike we saw at the food plot.

Having never shot a muzzleloader before, I chose a Thompson Center Omega for him, loaded with 70 grains of Blackhorn 209 with a 200 grain Shockwave bullet.  I restrict his range to 70 yards right now, and after initially sighting in his rifle, just check out the next 1/2 dozen shots!  That little spike will have a problem if Morgan gets him in his sights!

That night, reflecting on our day together, I don't think I could have wished it be any different.  It was a perfect day spent with my son making memories to last a lifetime, and I think we are both truly excited about the rest of deer season.