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Blog Entries from the WeHuntSC.com blogging crew


Goose Hunting with the Wrecking Crew - Early Season
Wrecking Crew
Team WC with 19! 

This September weather has been brutaly hot and really tested our endurance and love for the sport. Though, with plenty of crackers, gatorade, and bug spray, we've managed to do pretty good this season. We were able to get some more youth interested in the sport of waterfowl hunting while having their parents spending more time in sporting good stores, purchasing their needs, and some of their wants! We worked with them in the field, discussing firearm safety, decoy placement, conservation, and of course "calling". As we always say, youth are our future!  

We hunted lakes, grain fields, and pastures/ponds this year with pretty good success and utilized these type of decoys: shells, full bodies, and floaters. When field hunting, we used "layout blinds" to stay hidden, especially while trying to video.
 
I would like to thank everyone who hunted with us, and look forward to "getting down", and doing some more "Wrecking"!
 
I would also, like to thank our continued sponsors, Drake Waterfowl, Winntuck Waterfowl Lanyards, and Decoy Outdoors.
 
Below is a video showing our team in action: Wrecking Crew early season episode 1. 
 
 
 
I hope everyone enjoys it and is looking forward to colder weather, with wings committed.
 
Good Hunting
 
Blake 

Guest Blog - Gifford Watkins' Hunting Adventure

The below entry is a guest blog from a friend of mine from Nova Scotia, Mr. Gifford Watkins

When I was a seminary student at Southwestern Baptist Theological School (Fort Worth) I took at job as an intern at Park Cities Baptist Church.  After working there a few weeks I got to know the mailman, who said due to his recent divorce he had extra room in his house.  I thought since most of my life was in North Dallas it would be a good idea so I moved in.  My fiance at the time thought it would be ideal for us to spend Thanksgiving at their ranch in South Texas.  As I packed a weekend bag, I heard the door slam and the footfalls of my new housemate.  I really didn't know that much about him at the time, but after I mentioned heading to a ranch for the weekend, he asked if I was going hunting.  I said I was not planning to, I didn't have a gun, or bullets, or a license to hunt in Texas, to which he said, "Puh, you don't need a license, do you want to borrow a gun?"  I asked what sort of gun and that was when the fun began.  His name was Troy.  Troy led me to a wall in the living room where he pushed and out came a door; the door to his cache. A huge steel cabinet with decals I cannot describe (Death from Above might ring a bell with some) was unlocked and inside, was well, the inside.  I chose a Smith and Wesson .41 caliber hand cannon with a scope and 6 bullets; three hollow points and three full metal jackets. I loaded these into a stainless steel carrying case and headed out the door.

 
The ranch was 100+ acres of Texas scrub; mule deer and turkeys ran rampant as I surveyed the surrounds looking for the right place to hunker down the next day.  Train tracks ran through about 300 yards away from the ranch house and I thought it a good vantage point being about 15 feet above the fenced fields to the south, so I returned to the ranch, sat with the family and drank with the grownups til twilight.  It was time.  I grabbed my silver kit and headed toward the tracks, taking a round about route so I could approach downwind North.  I loaded the cylinder and sat down to wait.  Within a half hour I heard the pift, pift, pift of footsteps approaching down below west of the open fields.  The gradient slope down from the tracks was heavily grassed breaking only at the nearest fence line, about 150 yards away.  A small rack of horns emerged and out stepped a mule deer about 140 pounds or so.  I braced off, still sitting, one knee up to rest my right elbow and sighted in.  Not wanting to spoil the kill I took aim at the front of the right shoulder and drew in a breath, held it, waited for the lilt and gently squeezed. The recoil was enough to jumpstart my heart and the sight of the buck dropping enough to move my legs into action. Running with the .41, I scrambled down the hill, through the tall grass, grabbed a post with one hand and hopped the fence (feeling a little bit like Mel Gibson in one of his crazy cop movies), eager to investigate the damage.  In a few seconds I was next to the deer kneeling down.  I put my index finger into the hole as far as I could and grinned wide looking around to see if anyone had seen this magnificent feat.  I didn't have a holster so I transferred the .41 to my left hand and grabbed the horns.  With about 250 yards to drag, I started lugging the carcass to the ranch.  Still trembling, excited, and glad to have something to show the freezer at home, I dug deep and pulled and pulled until I was about 100 yards out still hugging the fence line.
 
Suddenly, and I mean in a split second, I wasn't dragging the buck... it was dragging me; I held on for a few seconds before realizing what was happening and let go. Now I was on the ground and the deer was above me, disoriented and panicked. I tried crabbing backwards but the buck was running round in circles and the .41 was near useless as I tried to sight it in at 5 yards BAM miss, 10 yards BAM miss, back to 5 yards BAM another miss; I was now a Nova Scotian matador with nothing to hide behind.  Finally it straightened out ran full tilt into the barbed wire fence, toppling upside down and if it could have been any more panicked, it was, as it bolted up and over the train tracks where I had just been lying 5 minutes ago.  I stood in my place alone, not grinning, so glad there was no one around to witness this horrible twist of fate.  I hung my head, walked back to the tracks looking for blood, but found nothing except the case I had left behind; the walk back to the ranch was very long and as I approached folks came out to see what I had accomplished on my outing.  My fiance said, "So how did my hunter man make out this morning, we heard shots fired."  I held up one bloody finger and said, "I got one, I was dragging it home when it got up, scared me and ran away."  The seasoned hunters were soon laughing so hard that my ears burned, my face reddened and my shoulders slumped even more.  They didn't have a good dog, so tracking was out of the question.  As the laughter died down, I said, "Well, I shot the thing, other than that what was I supposed to do?" The response: "gut it." But I didn't have a knife.
 
That Christmas as we opened gifts, I was surprised to see a box from the soon to be in-laws. Pulling off the wrapping paper revealed a tidy brown box with gold embossed letters: KASUNA. Inside was a buck knife.
 
Thinking back on that day I can only offer one explanation.  The first bullet out of the chamber must have been a full metal jacket, a bullet that passed right through the neck of a 120 pound 6 point buck.  It was a great shot indeed, but unfortunately the wrong ammunition.  I did go out later that day (in the evening) and bag a 100 pound doe; this time I aimed behind the right shoulder from high atop a tree.  It seemed completely uneventful after the morning's incident though.  I returned home to Dallas and every time I opened the freezer, thought about the buck that got away.
 
The moral of the story is... don't borrow a gun from a disgruntled, divorced, African-American Viet Nam vet turned disgruntled postal worker. Just my humble opinion. Happy hunting South Carolina :)
 
Gifford

The "Brow Tine"
 
JD hasn't stopped smiling about his new knife.  

When I was twelve years old my Dad gave me my first knife.  If I close my eyes I can still picture that day and remember thinking how cool it was to have my own knife.  It wasn't much to brag about but you couldn't tell me that at the time.  I spent many hours whittling on sticks in the woods with that knife.  It was a small black folding knife that to this day I have tucked away in a special place. 

With this being JD's first deer season I thought it would be special if I could get him a knife that he could not only use but cherish for the rest of his life.  I knew JD was no stranger to knives because he often had one on his side or in his pocket when we would go on fishing trips over the summer.  With that being said I wanted to make sure the knife he got for his first hunting season was special in every way. 

About ten years ago I bought a "Pikes Peak" pocket knife from CRKT - Columbia River Knife and Tool.  I was always looking for a good pocket knife and when I bought that knife I hit the jackpot.  The knife has held strong since I bought it ten years ago.  The only hiccup was about two years after I bought the knife when the clip that attaches with three Torx screws came off in my pocket and I lost one of the screws.  The next day I called CRKT and within the week I had a new clip and three new screws.  The representative I talked to was very helpful and gave me a tip of putting Loctite on the screws before I reassembled.  From that point forward that knife has been rock solid.  

 
  CRKT - Kommer Brow Tine

Based on prior history, I knew that CRKT was the company I wanted to use to find JD a knife for his first season.  With their help, we found the perfect knife in the Russ Kommer Brow Tine.  When the box came in the mail I could hardly stand it.  When I opened the box and pulled the knife from its tooled leather sheath I was pumped.  The stag antler handle fit perfectly in my hand and I could see my reflection in the stainless steel mirror finished blade.  As a hunter this was a dream knife and I couldn't wait to give it to JD.

Unfortunately when the knife arrived we were in the middle of about a week's worth of rain.  I wanted to surprise JD with the knife, so I waited until the weather cleared up.  The weather finally gave us a break last Monday so I called JD and asked if he wanted to go check on the food plots.   I told JD I was going to do an update video for the blog but as we started the video I told him to look in my camo bag.  As he pulled out the box I think I was about as excited as I could be.  JD was totally surprised and I don't think he has stopped smiling since.  Now he has an awesome hunting knife to carry on his side this year.  Inscribed on the side of the knife it says field tested.  Hopefully we can put those words to use this year in JD's first season. 

I think JD will cherish that knife for a very long time.  It is these memories that we can really hold on to and I was blessed to be able to share that moment with JD.  Do you remember your first hunting knife?  What memories do you have of it and your first deer season?

 


Guest Blog: Anyboy Else Hunt Squirrels?

WeHuntSC.com - Klay with some of the squirrelsThe below blog entry is a guest blog entry by Andy Hahn:

Some folks say they hunt squirrels because it hones their stalking and shooting skills, making them better big-game hunters. Other guys tell me they only hunt squirrels because their kids enjoy it. Well, I need no such excuses. I go squirrel hunting because I love to hunt squirrels.

As a teenager in Pennsylvania I used to rush home from school, grab my single-shot 20 gauge and orange vest, and head for nearby woodlots in search of bushytails. When I was in my mid-20s, I lived in Philadelphia. Every Saturday in October and November I?d wake up at 3:30, drive to State Game Lands in south central Pennsylvania and greet the dawn on a hardwood ridge overlooking the Susquehanna River, squirrel gun in hand. My pulse always got to racing at the glimpse of a tail flicking among the branches or the sound of a small critter shuffling through fallen leaves?and it still does!

In 2006 I was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig?s disease), a neurological condition that has put me in a wheelchair and rendered my arms nearly useless. Now I hunt with the help of friends and adaptive shooting equipment. While a ?point man? handles the rifle, we watch the sight picture via a special video camera and monitor that show with a scope?s-eye view, crosshairs and all. When things look right, I squeeze the trigger with a cable release.

WeHuntSC.com - Andy Hahn with his adaptive rigThree years ago my buddy Ron Wagner and I were hunting the last week of deer season at Bang?s Paradise Valley Hunting Club in Ehrhardt, SC. We commented that many of the stand sites seemed overrun by swarms of grey squirrels. ?No wonder my corn bill is so darn high!? joked the lodge owner, Bang Collins. ?Maybe you guys can help me by thinning out the rodent population.?

We needed no further encouragement. Bang lent us a Ruger 10/22 and the following day we started collecting the main ingredients for a big pot of Brunswick stew. That evening as we talked about our ?rodent-control project? I noticed a youngster listening with wide-eyed attention. Nine-year-old Klay Elixson had come to Ehrhardt with his grandfather Rick Hires, another regular visitor at the lodge with whom we?d become good friends. I asked Rick, and when he gave his permission I invited Klay to join Ron and me for a tree-rat safari.

The next dawn found the three of us in a pop-up blind, anxiously waiting for some squirrels to appear. We didn?t have to wait long. We used the Ruger and my shooting equipment, which kept everyone involved in the hunt.  Ron aimed while Klay and I took turns using the cable control to squeeze the trigger. Klay displayed fine hunting skills by keeping still, spotting bushy-tails and patiently waiting for high-percentage shots. The scope camera proved an excellent teaching tool as we followed squirrels on the monitor and discussed why different situations and angles made for good or bad shot selections. Our apprentice soon earned the title of No-Playin? Outa-the-Wayin? Lead-Sprayin? Squirrel-Slayin? Machine.

Sharing our knowledge and watching a young hunter enjoy himself, Ron and I probably had more fun than Klay that morning. Time in the woods with an enthusiastic kid also showed me that despite having special needs, disabled hunters can and must take responsibility for helping pass on our outdoor heritage to the next generation.

WeHuntSC.com - Klay, Andy, & RonWeHuntSC.com - The Squirrel Eraser

The following season I bought a Marlin Model 917 VSCF .17 HMR, added an Alpen Kodiak 6-24x50 scope and dubbed it ?The Squirrel Eraser.? Ron, Klay and I now get together at Bang?s once a year for a tree-rat roundup.

Last year a deer hunter scoffed at our small-game pursuits: ?I don?t waste time hunting squirrels.?

?Me neither,? I replied. ?I enjoy every minute of it.?

 


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