Whitetail Freak Hunter

I was just going to make a correction on this, as I just found this out. Big Ha Hay car and driver, now watch their sales drop from PO'd readers.

Those G5 Tekan II's sure do grow on ya, don't they?

I have had days like this, I look at it a like God giving me a nudge..... saying we need to talk.

The link is at the bottom of my post, maybe I should have put it under political, but it was written in Car and Driver. At first I thought it was an April Fools Joke, but it does not appear to be.

That is so sweet looking!!

Sorry Car and Driver did this as a April Fools Joke, please excuse, but I have deleted all the content but the post link. I would have liked to have edited the topic post as well to reflect Car and Drivers April Fools Prank on every one. http://www.caranddriver.com/reviews/hot_lists/high_performance/motorsports/obama_orders_chevrolet_and_dodge_out_of_nascar_car_news

The range I go to at Spirit Quest Archery has a 40 yrd indoor. This makes it very nice for practicing when weather is real cold, wet and white.

And now, for the BIG Oh Yeah.... My wife wants a bow now!!!! She said she would not hunt, but will start to shoot with me at the indoor range. Oh Yeah!!

I just went out to try an arrow to see just what kind of stoppage I get. The force of the arrow, knocked the target off the stand I was using as I did not have my hanger available.

I'm gonna be shooting at this bag tomorrow, just so I can check penetration. I do believe one package of interlocking mats will work for a small block target. But I wanted a wide body look to represent a deer body. Here is a link for Get Rung and they sell factory seconds, just follow the link once you open the site up. http://www.getrung.com/factory-seconds.html

I shot the Monster after my dealer set it up for me, and well I love my Drenalin better still. I of course would not mind owning the Black Drenalin, Monster, Reezen, DXT, Outback, Switchback .... as long as its a Mathews. Did I say I love Mathews?

Love the topic - You know my son has not been attending church, and we had a talk. He said, dad my friends are telling me I don't need church to talk to God. I told him, your right, you don't. But I asked him, to stop eating physical food for a whole week. He looked at me strange and said, he couldn't do it. I asked him why? He said, Dad I would get so week from lack of food. Well son, the same rule applies to us, when we forsake gathering together to get fed spiritual food, and 7 days without the Lord makes one weak. I told him that I noticed his language, that it was so easy for him to throw F bombs etc. You know there is plenty of time to get into the out doors and enjoy what God made for us to enjoy, but I like to devote my time when worshiping God, to do so in His house and gather with all my other brother and sisters that are there as well.

I don't know how many of you realize just how much Matt and his wife are involved in. They wrote and sang this song, which now is presented in 15 differant languages and sung around the world. The Salvation Poem by Matt & Sherry McPherson http://www.thesalvationpoem.com I have to say, it makes me even more confident that I chose the right bow company to purchase from.

The merger was quite a few years ago. http://www.fastestbows.com/press/2002/pearson_mcpherson_merge.htm

Those are awesome!!!

I wanted to pass this along to those that like making their own, target bags. At my local Ranch Store they get these burlap rice bags in and sell them for $1.98 each. So I get them, and find good arrow stoppers to put inside, like carpet foam, or foam insulation and packing plastic. Then my wife got into helping me, and let me have some of her co-joining 24.5"X24.5" floor foam that I could have to work as a better arrow stopper. So, I cut each section in half to be 24.5"X12 1/4" Now, these can be used as a bedded deer, or hanging target which ever some one chooses. Just thought I would pass this along if your looking for a cost savings in your targets.

That's okay, as long as I get to go into my woods first before them

Looks awesome !!

Love your signature line..... I also love Philipians 4:13 Keep on doing brother

My 25 yr old daughter comes to me, and wants to get involved with archery and shooting a bow Man to say I am over joyed is an understatement.... well I got her measured and surprized she is exactly my same draw length, but left eye dominant. Now this makes - 5 and counting in my generalized family, and extended family. Amber told me that her husband Brett, now wants to also get involved with archery and bowhunting. Got my application in hand and getting my membership for the Montana Bowhunter Association off in the mail today. Bowhunters Ed starts here in a few weeks for me as well, and until all the stats are in we won't know who took it online and how many were total for on hands bowhunters education students. Man feel the rush, and the addiction.......

I didn't shoot the Reezen yesterday, but I did shoot the Monster... simply very smooth and F A S T

These will never invade Montana's Archery ONLY Season. Crossbows belong in the General Firearms Season. I say never because the Montana Bowhunters Association works very close with our Montana FWP, and MTBA will never give into crossbow hunters.

No, this is just a ministry that I felt led to take on with Brandon. He has no male figure in his life that will connect with him, because of what his dad did to him.

This article was originally posted to the Internet by "Annonymous" This story originally appeared in "The Blue Press" (a catalog/magazine put out by Dillon Precision Products, Inc., 7442 Butherus Drive, Scottsdale, AZ 85260, phone 602-948-8009.) The editor, Mark Pixler, was kind enough to allow distribution on the Internet. This story may be reprinted as long as due credit is given to the author and publisher. Sundown at Coffin Rock by Raymond K. Paden The old man walked slowly through the dry, fallen leaves of autumn, his practiced eye automatically choosing the bare and stony places in the trail for his feet. There was scarcely a sound as he passed, though his left knee was stiff with scar tissue. He grunted occasionally as the tight sinews pulled. Damn chainsaw, he thought. Behind him, the boy shuffled along, trying to imitate his grandfather, but unable to mimic the silent motion that the old man had learned during countless winter days upon this wooded mountain in pursuit of game. He's fifteen years old, the old man thought. Plenty old enough to be learning. But that was another time, another America. His mind drifted, and he saw himself, a fifteen-year-old boy following in the footsteps of his own grandfather, clutching a twelve gauge in his trembling hands as they tracked a wounded whitetail. The leg was hurting worse now, and he slowed his pace a bit. Plenty of time. It should have been my own son here with me now, the old man thought sadly. But Jason had no interest, no understanding. He cared for nothing but pounding on the keys of that damned computer terminal. He knew nothing about the woods, or where food came from...or freedom. And that's my fault, isn't it? The old man stopped and held up his hand, motioning for the boy to look. In the small clearing ahead, the deer stood motionless, watching them. It was a scraggly buck, underfed and sickly, but the boy's eyes lit up with excitement. It had been many years since they had seen even a single whitetail here on the mountain. After the hunting had stopped, the population had exploded. The deer had eaten the mountain almost bare until erosion had become a serious problem in some places. That following winter, three starving does had wandered into the old man's yard, trying to eat the bark off of his pecan trees, and he had wished the "animal rights" fanatics could have been there then. It was against the law, but old man knew a higher law, and he took an axe into the yard and killed the starving beasts. They did not have the strength to run. The buck finally turned and loped away, and they continued down the trail to the river. When they came to the "Big Oak," the old man turned and pushed through the heavy brush beside the trail and the boy followed, wordlessly. The old man knew that Thomas was curious about their leaving the trail, but the boy had learned to move silently (well, almost) and that meant no talking. When they came to "Coffin Rock," the old man sat down upon it and motioned for the boy to join him. "You see this rock, shaped like a casket?" the old man asked. "Yes sir." The old man smiled. The boy was respectful and polite. He loved the outdoors, too. Everything a man could ask in a grandson ....or a son. "I want you to remember this place, and what I'm about to tell you. A lot of it isn't going to make any sense to you, but it's important and one day you'll understand it well enough. The old man paused. Now that he was here, he didn't really know where to start. "Before you were born," he began at last, "this country was different. I've told you about hunting, about how everybody who obeyed the law could own guns. A man could speak out, anywhere, without worrying about whether he'd get back home or not. School was different, too. A man could send his kids to a church school, or a private school, or even teach them at home. But even in the public schools, they didn't spend all their time trying to brainwash you like they do at yours now." The old man paused, and was silent for many minutes. The boy was still, watching a chipmunk scavenging beside a fallen tree below them. "Things don't ever happen all at once, boy. They just sort of sneak up on you. Sure, we knew guns were important; we just didn't think it would ever happen in America. But we had to do something about crime, they said. It was a crisis. Everything was a crisis! It was a drug crisis, or a terrorism crisis, or street crime, or gang crime. Even a 'health care' crisis was an excuse to take away a little more of our rights." The old man turned to look at his grandson. "They ever let you read a thing called the Constitution down there at your school?" The boy solemnly shook his head. "Well, the Fourth Amendment's still in there. It says there won't be any unreasonable searches and seizures. It says you're safe in your own home." The old man shrugged. "That had to go. It was a crisis! They could kick your door open any time, day or night, and come in with guns blazing if they thought you had drugs ...or later, guns. Oh, at first it was just registration -- to keep the guns out of the hands of criminals! But that didn't work, of course, and then later when they wanted to take 'em they knew where to look. They banned 'assault rifles', and then 'sniper rifles', and 'Saturday night specials.' Everything you saw on the TV or in the movies was against us. God knows the news people were! And the schools were teaching our kids that nobody needed guns anymore. We tried to take a stand, but we felt like the whole face of our country had changed and we were left outside." "Me and a friend of mine, when we saw what was happening, we came and built a secret place up here on the mountain. A place where we could put our guns until we needed them. We figured some day Americans would remember what it was like to be free, and what kind of price we had to pay for that freedom. So we hid our guns instead of losing them." "One fellow I knew disagreed. He said we ought to use our guns now and stand up to the government. Said that the colonists had fought for their freedom when the British tried to disarm them at Lexington and Concord. Well, he and a lot of others died in what your history books call the 'Tax Revolt of 1998,' but son, it wasn't the revolt that caused the repeal of the Second Amendment like your history book says. The Second Amendment was already gone long before they ever repealed it. The rest of us thought we were doing the right thing by waiting. I hope to God we were right." "You see, Thomas. It isn't government that makes a man free. In the end, governments always do just the opposite. They gobble up freedom like hungry pigs. You have to have laws to keep the worst in men under control, but at the same time the people have to have guns, too, in order to keep the government itself under control. In our country, the people were supposed to be the final authority of the law, but that was a long time ago. Once the guns were gone, there was no reason for those who run the government to give a damn about laws and constitutional rights and such. They just did what they pleased and anyone who spoke out...well, I'm getting ahead of myself." "It took a long time to collect up all the millions of firearms that were in private hands. The government created a whole new agency to see to it. There were rewards for turning your friends in, too. Drug dealers and murderers were set free after two or three years in prison, but possession of a gun would get you mandatory life behind bars with no parole. "I don't know how they found out about me, probably knew I'd been a hunter all those years, or maybe somebody turned me in. They picked me up on suspicion and took me down to the federal building." "Son, those guys did everything they could think of to me. Kept me locked up in this little room for hours, no food, no water. They kept coming in, asking me where the guns were. 'What guns?' I said. Whenever I'd doze off, they'd come crashing in, yelling and hollering. I got to where I didn't know which end was up. I'd say I wanted my lawyer and they'd laugh. 'Lawyers are for criminals', they said. 'You'll get a lawyer after we get the guns.' What's so funny is, I know they thought they were doing the right thing. They were fighting crime!" "When I got home I found Ruth sitting in the middle of the living room floor, crying her eyes out. The house was a shambles. While I was down there, they'd come out and took our house apart. Didn't need a search warrant, they said. National emergency! Gun crisis! Your grandma tried to call our preacher and they ripped the phone off the wall. Told her that they'd go easy on me if she just told them where I kept my guns." The old man laughed. "She told them to go to ****." He stared into the distance for a moment as his laughter faded. "They wouldn't tell her about me, where I was or anything, that whole time. She said that she'd thought I was dead. She never got over that day, and she died the next December." "They've been watching me ever since, off and on. I guess there's not much for them to do anymore, now that all the guns are gone. Plenty of time to watch one foolish old man." He paused. Beside him, the boy stared at the stone beneath his feet. "Anyway, I figure that, one day, America will come to her senses. Our men will need those guns and they'll be ready. We cleaned them and sealed them up good; they'll last for years. Maybe it won't be in your lifetime, Thomas. Maybe one day you'll be sitting here with your son or grandson. Tell him about me, boy. Tell him about the way I said America used to be." The old man stood, his bad leg shaking unsteadily beneath him. "You see the way this stone points? You follow that line one hundred feet down the hill and you'll find a big round rock. It looks like it's buried solid, but one man with a good prybar can lift it, and there's a concrete tunnel right under there that goes back into the hill." The old man stood, watching as the sun eased toward the ridge, coloring the sky and the world red. Below them, the river still splashed among the stones, as it had for a million years. It's still going, the old man thought. There'll be someone left to carry on for me when I'm gone. It was harder to walk back. He felt old and purposeless now, and it would be easier, he knew, to give in to that aching heaviness in his left lung that had begun to trouble him more and more. Damn cigarettes, he thought. His leg hurt, and the boy silently came up beside him and supported him as they started down the last mile toward the house. How quiet he walks, the old man thought. He's learned well. It was almost dark when the boy walked in. His father looked up from his paper. "Did you and your granddad have a nice walk?" "Yes," the boy answered, opening the refrigerator. "You can call Agent Goodwin tomorrow. Gramps finally showed me where it is."

This thread is just too funny