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Littlefoot had been in the
deep brush and weeds along
the river when the pheasant
flew. He had not seen what
way it went or that it had gone
down. I would have to send
him on a blind retrieve. It was
so far across the river that
friends suggested that I not
send him, thinking that he
would never see the bird nor
swim that far. I pointed
though and sent him
swimming with my signal of
"Dead
Bird".............................................
.....
deep brush and weeds along
the river when the pheasant
flew. He had not seen what
way it went or that it had gone
down. I would have to send
him on a blind retrieve. It was
so far across the river that
friends suggested that I not
send him, thinking that he
would never see the bird nor
swim that far. I pointed
though and sent him
swimming with my signal of
"Dead
Bird".............................................
.....
I let go of his neck here
and Bashoy Raub and I
got his arms around
behind his back. To
emphasize things I gave
his arm a strong pull
upward inflicting as
much pain as necessary
to get my point across.
Several sheriffs finally
showed up and took
over the Mushroom
Picker.
and Bashoy Raub and I
got his arms around
behind his back. To
emphasize things I gave
his arm a strong pull
upward inflicting as
much pain as necessary
to get my point across.
Several sheriffs finally
showed up and took
over the Mushroom
Picker.
.. . . . .In 1992 I first went to central
Maine for a week of camping and to
scout a new area for deer hunting. All of
central Maine is paper-company land,
with vast lonely tracts and no
settlements. Early in the morning on the
second day I was making my way along
the north shore of a Lake and came
across an old clearing about 200 yards
up from a protected bay off the lake. I
found good deer sign so I sat down on
the trail to see if a deer might come by.
As I sat there I began to hear something
that sounded like a very faint drumbeat
and with it a high, wail-like chanting &
singing. It sounded like it was far far off.
I heard it for a ½ hour. It was calm
where I was at, but windy outside the
clearing. I got up and moved down the
trail and I lost the noise. I went back to
where I was at and sat down again and
after a minute the sound came back. I
wrote it off as nothing significant and
kept hunting. But that night my curiosity
was aroused. So I went back up there a
couple of days later at sunset for my
evening stand. This time it was dead
calm, and again, when I was outside the
area there was no noise. But when I
moved to the clearing, after a few
minutes, I could hear chanting again.
There’s always snow on the ground for
the Maine deer season and there were
no other human tracks other than mine
for miles. The next 3 years I brought
others with me to hunt in that area.
Each year I’d go back to that place, and
each year my experience was the same.
I’have never seen lights in the sky, I don’
t hear voices in my head, I am not given
to religious ecstasy, and I have never
been scared of werewolves, vampires,
witches, or the dark. I’m a man of
letters, and I’d like to think there’s a
logical explanation for everything! Life
is pretty cut-and-dried, concrete-and-
steel. There’s no mystery to the ways of
fish and game – just skill and luck. I
never took anyone else to that spot for
fear I’d stick my foot in my mouth and
have to explain something to fellow
professionals that only I experienced.
And besides, I’d like to think that some
day I would come up with a logical
explanation for it. It’s been 12 years,
and I still think back to that place. And it
haunts me. I just can’t explain it away.
This is the first I’have talked about it
other than to my wife and a couple of
close friends…but the older I get, well, I
just couldn't take a story like that with
me to my grave, now could I?!
Maine for a week of camping and to
scout a new area for deer hunting. All of
central Maine is paper-company land,
with vast lonely tracts and no
settlements. Early in the morning on the
second day I was making my way along
the north shore of a Lake and came
across an old clearing about 200 yards
up from a protected bay off the lake. I
found good deer sign so I sat down on
the trail to see if a deer might come by.
As I sat there I began to hear something
that sounded like a very faint drumbeat
and with it a high, wail-like chanting &
singing. It sounded like it was far far off.
I heard it for a ½ hour. It was calm
where I was at, but windy outside the
clearing. I got up and moved down the
trail and I lost the noise. I went back to
where I was at and sat down again and
after a minute the sound came back. I
wrote it off as nothing significant and
kept hunting. But that night my curiosity
was aroused. So I went back up there a
couple of days later at sunset for my
evening stand. This time it was dead
calm, and again, when I was outside the
area there was no noise. But when I
moved to the clearing, after a few
minutes, I could hear chanting again.
There’s always snow on the ground for
the Maine deer season and there were
no other human tracks other than mine
for miles. The next 3 years I brought
others with me to hunt in that area.
Each year I’d go back to that place, and
each year my experience was the same.
I’have never seen lights in the sky, I don’
t hear voices in my head, I am not given
to religious ecstasy, and I have never
been scared of werewolves, vampires,
witches, or the dark. I’m a man of
letters, and I’d like to think there’s a
logical explanation for everything! Life
is pretty cut-and-dried, concrete-and-
steel. There’s no mystery to the ways of
fish and game – just skill and luck. I
never took anyone else to that spot for
fear I’d stick my foot in my mouth and
have to explain something to fellow
professionals that only I experienced.
And besides, I’d like to think that some
day I would come up with a logical
explanation for it. It’s been 12 years,
and I still think back to that place. And it
haunts me. I just can’t explain it away.
This is the first I’have talked about it
other than to my wife and a couple of
close friends…but the older I get, well, I
just couldn't take a story like that with
me to my grave, now could I?!
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Elk die in Utah Wilderness
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A small prayer goes out
to all those fighting for
our freedom in far off
lands, from the deck of
Just Keep Fishing!
to all those fighting for
our freedom in far off
lands, from the deck of
Just Keep Fishing!
Make sure to click this picture to watch the video
that goes along with it. A great time on the water
with friends!
that goes along with it. A great time on the water
with friends!
Grains of sand between your toes,
The smell of salt drawn in your nose,
In the distance the cry of gulls,
The sun reflected off a boats hull,
As children run here and there,
The Pumas can only sit and stare!
The smell of salt drawn in your nose,
In the distance the cry of gulls,
The sun reflected off a boats hull,
As children run here and there,
The Pumas can only sit and stare!
Team Just Keep Fishing finishes the four event OTC
tournament circuit in 5th place over all. They also
took 5th place at the Washington Tuna Classic.
Rough weather was fought at each event!
tournament circuit in 5th place over all. They also
took 5th place at the Washington Tuna Classic.
Rough weather was fought at each event!
First deer
falls to
my
daughters
.243
falls to
my
daughters
.243
Cabela's Big Horn Tent
A report on how it
preformed at deer camp
this year! 2011
A report on how it
preformed at deer camp
this year! 2011
