Back to Basics.....

Fall is here. Leaves are changing, mornings are cooler, and lately I have been feeling a tingle that tells me the November rut is right around the corner. Yes, soon it will be that special time of year. The time to be in the stand all day trying to catch that bruiser buck on his feet.

For me, bowhunting whitetails runs deep. It is something I grew up doing and where I cut my teeth. Some of my most cherished memories in life were made 20ft up, standing on a 24X30" platform, hanging from a tree.

Although Whitetail season here in Ohio opened the last weekend in September, I hadn't had a chance to get out until this past Saturday. The area I bowhunt requires me to take 2 does before I can take a buck. In order to stay on pace before the rut hits, the pressure was on. I had to fill at least one of my tags.

Sitting there that morning and rolling into hour number 2 I heard the ever telling sound of a deer walking. Two does were coming my way. Instantly the blood is pumping and my heart started to race. Believe me, when you are required to punch 2 doe tags before you can think about arrowing a buck, every doe you see becomes a "Booner".

As I turn to get into position the lead doe hits 20 yards and holds up. There is something she doesn't like. Although 20 yards is definitely "in the zone" she is coming directly at me, which gives me no option for a shot. After a short stand off, she decided she has had enough and walked away the exact same way as she approached. Again, no shot and agony sets in. She might as well been a 150" 8 point walking away. All I could think about is blowing what could have been a great opportunity at #1. As I stand there trying to figure out where it went wrong, I turn and notice another doe, standing at 15 yards, quartering away. Perfect.

I raise the bow, put tension on the string, and the Pearson comes to full draw. After centering my bubble and placing my pin, I squeezed the release. In a split second the Carbon Express shaft was off, full steam ahead. The arrow found its mark and a short 80 yards later Doe number #1 was in the books.

Next up after the Columbus Marathon on the 19th will be a much anticipated trip to Alabama. Pup, Frasca, and I received an invite from Pearson to come down and bowhunt some bama Whitetails. Stay tuned, because once again we will be loading up the truck and heading out for another epic adventure.

Colorado Elk - 2008

"The difference between the impossible and the possible lies in a man's determination." -Tommy Lasorda

I have always been told that if you believe in something enough, you can make it happen. Through hard work, determination, and a "failure is not an option" attitude, anything is possible. I can tell you first hand this is true, I just lived it in Colorado.

The trip to Colorado was something that really cannot fully be explained. Pictures and stories give a glimpse, but until you live it, it’s hard to truly understand.

On September 18 I picked up Pup in Columbus at 12:15am. We loaded the truck and it was off to the mountains of Colorado. The map called for a 22 hour drive to Grand Junction and then another 2 ½ to the trailhead. Running on Mountain Dew and Starbucks we drove straight through and arrived at our destination at 2:30am Colorado time. Stopped the truck, set my watch alarm for 4am, and grabbed 1 ½ hours of much needed sleep. Alarm sounded and we were up, shouldering our 45lb packs we turned into the darkness heading for elk.

A day had passed and the 2nd morning arrived. As we awoke and were packing up camp a bugle came from above. After a strategic 2 hour climb we closed the distance to 80 yards only to have a swirling wind and keen nose put a complete halt to our efforts. Elk 1, Shoe & Pup 0.

As we sat there and discussed our approach and what we could have done different, a second bull approached, a beautiful 5x5. With the 5x5 covering ground I made a quick move while Pup stayed put watching from above. Later Pup told me as I moved down the mountain trying to gain a position on the bull he simply disappeared. You wonder how an 800-900lb animal can just vanish into thin air.....let me assure you they do. Just as quick as he was there he was gone. Game over, Elk 2, Shoe & Pup 0.

Fast forward 2 days through more failed attempts (Elk 5, Shoe & Pup 0), lots of miles, and even more elevation gain/loss up and down the mountains. After chasing a bull, we had made our way to the top of a canyon wall where we set up camp for night. That night I drifted asleep listening to bugling bulls all around me. As I lay there listening, I try to pinpoint their location for the morning.

Alarm sounds 5am and we’re up. Spark the lighter and the esbit stove comes alive to heat up my morning treat, 8oz of instant coffee. Today we decide to leave camp and pack only with us the necessity items, 3 granola bars, water bladder, knife, headlamp, and bow. Today we’re mobile, light and fast. As we discuss plans for the day a bull sounds off in the bottom, exactly where I heard a bull the night before. After a short discussion we decide to go after him.

In order to make time, we elected to stay on top and work the oak brush. With each step comes a better opportunity to key in on his exact location. The greater distance we cover the louder the bugle. At 1 mile we near a cliff and a decision had to be made. We can keep our elevation and approach from the top or drop to the bottom. After looking at the terrain and testing the wind, we decided the safer bet was to drop to the bottom. Off the rim we went trying to cover as much ground as possible and close the distance before he stopped bugling.

Making it to the bottom we switched gears and cautiously trailed the bull. Each time he would bugle would tell us his location and we made a move. We would cover as much ground as we could until we thought we were in the zone and then stop to listen. The bull would bugle, give us his location and we were off again. After another mile we thought we had him pegged and the last move came. We stopped to set up. I was moving in front of pup at about 20 yards to get in position when I heard the bugle. He was behind and up on us.

As I turned to move to another position I spotted him. He was up above and moving away from us at about 60 yards. Pup hit hard with a bugle and that was all it took. On a dime he turned, swung around, and started down the mountain to us. As the bull moved I moved, until I found myself sitting right next to Pup in the only clear opening available getting ready the moment I had been waiting for.

The next few moments were a blur. Quite honestly, the only thing that I really remember is pulling, centering my bubble, and putting the pin(s) on him (shoot an elk at 20 yards and just about every pin you have is in the body). As the bull moved behind the trees I came to full draw. He emerged in the opening, immediately spotted us and stopped. It was too late. I centered the bubble, placed my pins, and hit the release just like I had done 1000 times before at home in the backyard and in the basement. The 100 grain Montec tipped Carbon Express shaft vanished behind the shoulder.

To me, everything happened so fast I couldn’t pick up my arrow flight but Pup saw it all. I looked at him and he looked at me and he told me I had just pin wheeled my first elk. At that moment all of the hard work over the past 3 years came out. All I could do was just sit there with my bow across my lap and cry. Everything I had worked for, every 4am morning run, every ounce of energy I had put in shooting & training had just paid off. I had done it, I had just arrowed my first elk and reached a destination to a journey that I had once thought only a dream. Elk 5, Shoe and Pup 1.

The rest of story is too long and too detailed to write about here. From bear encounters both in the tent and at 5 yards, to packing out (absolutely no exaggeration) well over 100lbs of meat on each of our backs for over 6 ½ miles. The rest of the week we worked hard and came close but did not get a bull for Pup however the journey to Colorado was, just as it was planned to be, epic. I owe much gratitude to Pup and the elk of Colorado, both had given me something that I will carry with me forever.

The Man, the Myth, the Legend

Happy Birthday Dad. Today is a special day for a man that I owe my success in life to. Not only for planting in me the passion for bowhunting, but for being my role model. For those of you who don't know my father, you should. He is what a father should be. He is, what I hope to be for Owen. A teacher, a supporter, and a best friend.

Thinking back to where it all started, it doesn't get much better then the days of hunting squirrels together. I was probably 5 years old at the time. Our weapon of choice was a single shot .410 with about 5 pairs of socks on the end. I was deadly, or so I thought. I can remember sitting there in the woods with dad beside me and wanting to shoot every red jimmy that ran by. Dad would tell me to be patient and hold out for a fox squirrel. It would drive me nuts. I guess when you're 5 years old patience is hard to come by.

From squirrels it went to Whitetails. Whenever dad was out bowhunting the hours seemed like days. I can remember being up in my room and looking out the window just waiting to hear him come home. I was so anxious that I would have my "tracking" clothes out ready, just hoping for that chance to get to help dad bring home that big buck.

When I was in the 5th grade, I was finally old enough to try and take a Whitetail so we geared up for my first Ohio gun season. Before the hunt I can remember sitting in our house and looking at picture after picture in the pages of Deer and Deer Hunting magazines. Each picture that we flipped to dad would quiz me on where to aim. The plan was for this hunt I was going to be on my own. He was putting me in the old faithful stand, a stand where he had taken numerous whitetails with his bow. Dad was going to be on the other end of the woods. He told me that when it was time or he heard me shoot he would come to get me. That cold December morning was one that will live forever. I was lucky enough to take my first deer, a 3 point. I'll never forget dad coming through the woods and seeing my 3 point laying there. Neither of us could hardly believe it.

To me, this passion for bowhunting isn't about what you take or how big it is, as I said before, it's about the memories that are created. Besides being married to my best friend and my son being born, times spent with my dad together in the woods are as good as it gets. I can never repay or say thank you enough to him for what he has given and created in me. For all the times he took me out and we got to spend time together just sitting there, enjoying life and passing up red jimmies together, I say thank you. That's the journey and in some ways, that's the destination. That is what hunting is about. I certainly do not want to wish time away, but I cannot wait until I get to go back to where it all started and sit beside my Dad, 5-socked .410 in hand, having Dad and I create those same great memories with Owen.

So on this special day I say Happy Birthday and thank you to my Dad. I am what I am because of him.

Thursday, August 28

What would a journey be without a few bumps in the road? Early last week when I was knocking out some miles the IT band flared it's ugly head, again. If I were to try and describe the situation "disappointment" would be sugar coating it. Helpless, mad, and pouty would be much more appropriate. And if you asked the right person, you will find I replaced Owen as the baby of the family.

After figuring I was forced to take some time off I went up and became a month member of the Bwick rec. I finished the rest of last week taking a rest and started in this week on the bike. In this situation I know riding serves a purpose, but quite honestly I hate it. My plan was to take 2-3 weeks riding the bike and hitting the pool in hopes the time off would heal the band. Plans have changed however.

From a referral of another runner I visited a sports doc and according to him I can run through this. In a nut shell, the solution to the problem is working hard to break up the scar tissue that has formed to allow it to heal correctly. Doc did some major work on the IT band and turned me loose over the weekend to see how it does. From his past experiences (I trust him, the man has done 3 IronMan) he thought 1-2 more visits and I should be good to go and back to normal. Let's hope so. I'm right on the heels of Elk and C-bus. First test tomorrow 4am.

Hunt wise I feel I'm right on track. The pack is complete. It's been packed and re-packed and finished weight settles in right at 40lbs. Arrows are fletched, spun, and are ready for launch. To this point I feel I have done pretty much everything I can to prepare. The next 21 days will be spent rolling on miles and thinking over every last detail. Bugling Elk and fresh mountain air are just over the horizon...........

Monday, August 18

32 days and counting.........

Last week I was able to get back to my routine. It felt great to walk out under the cover of darkness into the chill of the morning. Reminds me of fall. To me, there's nothing like getting up early and hitting the pavement before the sun rises. For some reason it's in my blood. I look forward to every part of getting up at 4am to start the day. Call me crazy, I absolutely love it.

With knee healed up it was back to the grind, Monday off (OP), Tuesday - 6.5, Wednesday - 7.2, Thursday off (OP), Friday - 7.2, Saturday - 8, Sunday - 11. This gets me 39 for the week, not bad for a first week back. A decent base to start building on for the Columbus Marathon, October 19. C-bus is for all the marbles, it's where I hope to pump out a 3:10. The magic number for me to make the Boston qualifier.

Sunday I ventured back to the hills and mud of the Buckeye trail. Ever since the 50K I have been waiting to head back. The Buckeye was going to be the true test for the knee. 11 miles of ups and downs and it held up great. What a relief. Today is rest, so tomorrow starts a new week of training.

Prep for the hunt continues. Yesterday I put everything together in the pack and it came out at 42 lbs. Needless to say, a little heavy. The next step is cut some items and really scale it back. For this run I packed my "everything" list. Next, in hopes to lighten the load I'm packing my "necessity" list.

Over 11lbs of that 42 is food. In effort to save every ounce, I did a lot of research to find the best combination of energy/weight, or calories/ounce. Each item on the list (sample attached) made the cut because it contained the highest calorie per ounce ratio. It had to pack the good stuff and at the right weight to ride in the pack. I'm sure somewhere out there is a better list. If you know of one or have a thought I'd like to hear it.

So with Monday brings a new week and a set of new goals. There are miles to conquer and arrows to shoot. Elk camp is right around the corner. 32 days and counting to be exact........

Saturday, August 9

Yesterday was a great day. Last night I managed to get in 5 miles with no pain in the knee. I think the time off (total of 3 weeks) has done it. Ok, sort of 3 weeks. Last week I was out of town and had access to a great workout facility. Everything I read about ITS mentioned that cross training was fine, so I took advantage of the stationary bike and rode hard. I was the Lance Armstrong of stationary biking for a little over 3 days. I coupled the bike with a mile or two on the treadmill, stretching, ice, and yesterday told me it might have worked.

Everything is nearing final stages in preparation for the hunt. Fletching is almost done, next step is to sharpen and spin the Montecs. Once done, I'll shoot each one, check flight, and pick which one gets the honor of being first out of the gate. Food and equipment is almost entirely put together. I need to start washing, packing, and separating equipment into the 4500. With a little over 41 days left everything is getting close.

Over the last couple of weeks since I have started Bowhunt Quest, I have been asked about "failure is not an option." So let me do my best to explain. About 4 years ago, I was making some banzai trips to Southern Ohio to hunt whitetails. I would wake up at 1am, make the 2 1/2 hour drive, be in the stand before before first light, hunt all day, and then make the 2 1/2 hour drive back home. That made for some long days, but I was determined. During those long days, I thought a lot about the efforts I was putting in, only to come home empty handed. I realized that with bowhunting, it doesn't matter how hard you work, 9 out 10 times you're probably not going to close the deal. I realized that in order to be successful, "quit" cannot be part of my vocabulary. Simply put, "failure is not an option" was my only option. It's what I had to live by, it had to define me.

After this thought I remember going to work and printing off different sized failure quotes to find the one that fit perfectly on my bow limb. I wanted it there so each time I thought about quiting that quote was right in front of me. Each year when the new Pearson arrives, I take it off the old bow limb and tape it on the new one. That quote has become as important to me as the sight on my bow.

Each year that I travel west only to come home empty handed has been, in my eyes, anything but a failure. Sure I would have much rather been riding home with a punched tag and a set of 6X6 antlers sticking out of the back of the truck, however each time I left, I left knowing I gave 110% of everything I had. Everything I had, I left on the mountains. With the ending of one season comes the start of another. And over the past year I have worked harder than I ever have before. In 365 days, I have covered a little over 1750 miles all in effort to tag my first Elk. Each day when I roll out of bed at 4am to pound out 10 miles before work, I keep telling myself, if I put in enough hard work, its going to happen. So if this year is not my year and I come home empty handed, do I consider it a failure? Absolutely not. If this quest has taught me anything at all, it has taught me that there is much more to this journey than just tagging an Elk. I will come home, tell myself"failure is not an option" and press on.

Waiting.

Waiting. I hate waiting. It seems like a total waste of time and I don't think that my personality goes together well with it. The last week and a half I have been waiting for my iliotibial band to heal before I can get back out there and start hitting it again. It's killing me. During the 50K, I had some major pain in my left knee which I have now found out is one of the top 5 most common runner injuries called "iliotibial band syndrome". Basically from what I have learned, the iliotibial band connects the hip to the lower leg and when it gets either tweaked or over trained it hurts. The cure? Rest, ice, and an a script from the doc for inflammation. The part that is killing me is rest. With only 49 days left to departure, all I can think about is training and at the moment it has to wait. There's that word again.......

In my quest to train for the hunt I managed to find the race details on the Ptauny 50K in Pennsylvania on September 6. If the little situation I'm dealing with allows I'm going to get that in. Due to the timing and distance, it would be a total "Banzai" run (if you don't know what "Banzai" means, then I would suggest you pick up Cameron Hanes book, "Backcountry Bowhuting"), more to come if the leg allows. Anyway, September 6 is two weeks before we leave and it would be one last chance to get the legs and mind ready, the timing is perfect. We'll see how it plays out.

With the forced time off I have been spending more time scouring gear and getting ready. I started to fletch up the Carbon Express. Last year I switched to the NAP 2" Quickspins and they worked awesome. Loved them, busting dots out to 70. Gear is almost completely put together with the exception of a few last food items. I spoke to Pup the other day and his pack is together, came out at around 42 lbs. Wow. I don't know what mine is yet, but I sure hope it's lighter than 42 lbs. All the more reason to go out and pound more pavement.

So for now, I'm stretching and doing my exercises to help the healing process, let's hope it works. I have no time to waste.