Well the season has started. This column is not about what I or others are seeing or shooting. And it is important that you remember, this is just my personal opinion. This is about deer management in our unit, Unit L. And I am not PC. I do not harvest, I kill. Here is what I think.
All you can eat Oct. 13.
I got three fat deer in the freezer, time to take a break for something important. Like a great meal after eating my own cooking while Jeanne and the family were in Gulf Shores.
Y'all like catfish and all the trimmins that go with a great catfish dinner? Shoot! Who doesn't? But just in case you are that un-American, you can eat some dead chicken. So tell whoever does the cookin at your place, they have tomorrow night off.
It has taken well over two years. Tremendous hurdles had to be overcome. Three separate government agencies had to cooperate.
But finally, not in a small part, through the efforts of Wilson County Mayor Randall Hutto, we have a new, state of the art, boat ramp at Misty Cove.
Formerly known as Bentley's Boat Dock, Misty Cove has been in deplorable condition for a long time.
I don't watch much outdoor programming. I don't get most of the channels that show it. Before I start teeing off on this subject, let me first admit to some things.
Yes, I have been a professional hunter. I have been compensated to hunt. I have been a professional guide, compensated to put other hunters on game. I have been on television and I have made hunting videos and I have promoted products and been compensated for it.
This Saturday, just three days from now, Lord willing and weather and health permitting, I shall enjoy my 61st opening day of deer season.
My great aunt Fannie! The changes I have seen in those years.
Lemme tell you about some of them and then, I'll bring you up to speed if need be on the changes here.
It had been a while. I had not shot doves in several years.
To say my aim was rusty is an understatement.
More accurately, I could not hit a bull in the butt with bass fiddle.
It is hot and going to get hotter. You can bet on that. It is not daylight and it is 75-degrees.
So, I slip on the fleece jacket to my jogging suit. It will feel good. No matter what the temperature, until the sun gets up, it is cold on the Caney Fork.
Dove season opens at noon tomorrow (Sept. 1st). The limit is 15 and you can't have more than that in possession.
That is the easy part, remembering that.
Remember also, they are migratory birds; your shotgun must be plugged, no more than three shells. And of course, make sure you have the proper license, including a Tennessee migratory bird permit.
It was many years ago. I was very young and had a broken ankle.
A bucking horse had kicked me as I got off on the pickup man at a rodeo in St.Paul, MN. I won third.
I had a total of $230 in my pocket, no way to get back to Texas and no prospects.
I was a strange kid. I grew to be a strange man.
For example, as a kid, I was a morning person. I hated sleeping late. Hated the thought I might miss something...like a sunrise.
I don't know how much I will deer hunt this year. The burning desire is gone.
The days when I counted the hours until opening morning are over. And too, there is the inherent danger that comes with my age and physical condition.
I know there are folks who specialize in fishing for catfish. I am not one of them. By far, the bulk of the catfish I have caught, were caught on trotlines or by accident.
But here I was, on a lake I had never fished, using a bait that seems ridiculous, fishing 30-feet down for catfish. It was after all, the dog days of August and the fishing here sucked ditch water.
The dog days are here way too early. The daytime fishing has slowed and is mostly a deep water bite.
It gets too hot too early in the morning and the storms bounce around late in the afternoon. Lake levels are up and down, some ramps almost unusable. Misty Cove is a mess but what's new about that?
Actually there is something new about the deplorable condition of the Misty Cove boat ramp.
I figured, if all you are going to catch are buffalo, I might as well tell some stories.
See, this is how it came about. I had some land leased in Hickman County 640 acres -- a section one mile square. It was rough, ridge and holler land, all hardwoods, no fields, one bad dirt road and a guy they called Rabbit. It was part of the land I leased for Buckhorn Guide Service.
One of the great things about being the sort of outdoor writer I am, is that you never run out of things to write about.
See, I don't usually write about outdoor or sports shows or stuff like that.
That is what daily papers and television are for -- more reporting than writing.
I'll answer this question I hear asked a lot, lately.
Those oddly painted and decorated bulls you see outside area businesses are to promote and show support for the National Junior High Rodeo Finals, coming to the James E. Ward Ag. Center June 19-25.
It's a big deal. This is for national titles.
By now, most of you deer hunters have heard about the change in the regulations concerning what is checked in as a buck. For many years, if the animal had antlers three-inches or more, it must be checked in as a buck. A deer with shorter antlers but still visible was classified as antlerless and checked in as something besides a buck.
From day one, I opposed that. My stance was and is, if it was a male animal, regardless of antler length, then it was a buck and should be checked in as one.
"It is all about the kids and getting the kids interested and involved."
Robert Pitman was talking about the new fishing package White Oak Plantation is offering.
But that focus isn't really new. White Oak, located just outside Tuskegee, AL exactly 342-miles from my driveway, has long been family and youth oriented.
I am a handicapped fisherman.
I do not know how to use the fancy electronic equipment that all tournament anglers and many weekend anglers rely on.
I have two fancy depth finders, as I call them. They provide me with a lot of information of which I have no clue.
I have resisted writing this column for quite some time. The reason being, I do not feel this is something that can be answered with a straight, yes or no answer. I'm not sure I can answer it in one column because there is no finite answer in my opinion. It is quite complicated.
However, it is news and it is in the news almost daily. I felt it needed to be addressed.
What is my stance on gun control? When I am asked that question, it opens a huge Pandora's Box.
What would happen if Bass Pro Shops-BP were to buy Cabela's? The truth is, we don't know. We can only speculate. It is almost a sure bet, such a merger would transform the hunting and fishing world somewhat for the consumer. But of major and in my opinion, of greater impact would be the effect on thousands of private lives.
Let us examine this a little closer.
Gotta be one of my favorite fish, both to catch and certainly to eat. Call 'em whatever you want -- bluegill, perch, sunnies, bream, shellcracker or chinquapin or redear -- they fight like crazy and when it comes to an eating fish, they make about as great a meal as you will eat.
For kids and learning -- best fish swimming.
6:45 a.m.-on the bank, as we launch my boat, two gobblers are trying to convince a half-dozen hens they are the real deal.
An osprey glides across a roseate sky. Atop the rock pile, a loon and a gander debate Trump's qualifications.
We glide to a stop across the silken surface of Percy Priest. The clouds are leaving, clearing. I haven't even put the trolling motor down.
Thought of something the other day. Have y'all noticed that now that everyone is carrying a cell phone that takes pictures like a camera, you don't hear quite so much about UFO's?
See, I was sitting, most likely in a nest of copperheads and ticks, waiting for it to get light enough for this gobbler to fly down.
I wasn't really exactly where I wanted to be. In fact, I was not 100% sure, where it was, I was.
It started March 26 and kicked off a continuation.
We that being the Judge and I, on 3-26, were fishing for bass in our secret hole that less than 1,915 people know about.
At that same time, some high-dollar crappie tournament was taking place out of Flipper's store/dock. Since we were not crappie fishing, we didn't care.
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