The last two years I've driven down to the hill country from Minnesota to hunt a few days with my wife's cousin who has become my hunting partner. The long backstory and how I found my way to TBH is this;
I met my wife's cousin back in college before we were married. He is a funny super laid back guy from South Dakota who offered to drive 200 miles out of his way to help out because that's who he is. We chatted over beers at a family reunion and didnt see each other for a few years. Fast forward about ten years and a couple of phone conversations, we planned to meet up at he and my wife's grandparents farm in South Dakota for a doe hunt over Thanksgiving The hunt has since become a tradition of ridiculousness, freezer filling, family time, teaching our boys how to hunt, shoot guns and butcher as well as losing a great friend that was a cornerstone of the group to cancer.
In October 2012 I lost my sister to suicide and my hunting partner arrived in here from across the country the next day. Granted, I would see him a few days a year hunting and that was it. I'll be forever grateful for the support and assistance those days the years after when I needed to talk to someone.
In 2015, he was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer just before our South Dakota trip. With trepidation, he made the trip in the early stages of treatment, all of us knowing this was possibly the last hunt.
Hunt was great, but there was an uneasy feeling before, during and after. Right after that hunt, he received an invitation to his wife's uncle's ranch in the hill country to rest and shoot a few exotics. The cancer was really up in the air at this point, but we figured go for it, possibly now or never. I was invited to come along to help out as he was pretty weak and nobody knew what the future held. The trip had to be called at the last minute, but all were committed to making it happen. I was on standby for whatever and we talked daily about life, work, family, but mostly hunting. I'm in Minnesota and he's in Arizona, we both have kids and are typically busy with work and life, but we both came to look forward to chatting about the coming hunts, not knowing if it would ever happen. There were some tough ones talking about what ifs and offers to make sure his kids had the outdoors opportunities he would have provided.
Fall came around and I dont know where he got the strength but Paul bought a last minute ticket and I picked him up at the airport for a South dakota pheasant trip before a heavy round of treatment. We loaded up on birds, albeit slower than usual, and we still laugh about how much beer I drank while he squatted in a field, but that's just how it is. A month later we did our annual Thanksgiving South Dakota doe hunt. Paul was actually cancer free at this point, but still pretty weak and dealing with post cancer issues from surgeries and radiation.
If a days hunting was slow, we gave him a hard time for not dying, as he promised to lead us to the game from above if he didnt make it.
The offer still stood to go to Texas on a hunt, which we coined the "Make a Wish" hunt. We're mildly inappropriate, but that's how we roll.
I had a million questions about the hunt I was a guest on, but planned to go have a good time no matter what. Normally, I plan and research things to a t, whether it's a big trip, or an annual trip to hunt the same land. I literally drove to Junction from Minneapolis without even knowing exactly where I was headed, or what i was headed there for, other than to celebrate beating cancer and living life to the fullest with my hunting partner.
I had gathered a ton of information from this site and other research and was still unprepared to see the animals behind high fences as I entered this famed Hill country. I actually pulled over a handful of times just to look at roadkill animals I had not seen in person other than a museum including evwn a pig! On top of that, when I stopped, somebody else stopped to see if I was okay, assuming i had hit the animals. I quickly came to appreciate Texans.
The excitement of being able to ride along on this hunt for who knows what with Paul was overwhelming. Stopping at Whataburger and some of the BBQ joints along the way continued to make it greatness, you guys have no idea the little things you may take for granted.
I was told to call from Junction and they'd meet me along the road and let me through the gate. The gate?!!!
I had asked about a hundred times if place was high fenced and even where it was, what we'd be after, bow or gun, which license I needed, you known just some basic essential information, and I just got the usual Paul answers of I don't know, but who cares, we'd have fun looking for woodticks, just show up. It got to the point where I was questioning driving 20 hours to go along on a hunt that I wasn't sure even existed. Its an uneasy excitement, as I don't get a ton of time away from the family business and I'm careful to go to the best places at the best time or dont go. I'd rather drive 20 hours than 2 for something better, and here I was committing some time to something I knew nothing more about than it was outside a town called Junction and had a lot of animals, whatever that means.
I met Paul's Uncle and his son at his truck along the road shook hands and followed them through the big iron gates. We drove in a ways seeing critters here and there and my mind racing as I realized this was really happening and the realization that I was at a high fence hunting spot in the Texas hill country.
I brought my things inside and looked out the back window to a feeder and saw a nice black buck walk up. It was surreal.
We checked zero on guns while Paul's uncle made us some lunch and sent us out to one blind and his son and daughter in law to another.
Even the blinds were exciting, we could see feeders, pens, water, tons of smells of cedar, mesquite and the soil, and even the sounds of birds (living in Minnesota, the songbirds leave in the winter and it gets real quiet outside).
We sat there giving each other a stupid grin talking about how great it was to have simply made it here, when the axis, whiteails and black buck came in as well as sika does. We were looking at axis does to shoot, but we were not 100% of what we could shoot yet and if we were looking at mature animals having never seen these thing on the hoof. We just hung out, rather than take chances. With all that we were seeing the first evening, we figured there would be lots of opportunity and we'd heard some shots from other blind so we figured we'd act like guests and not shoot, especially if there was game to clean already. The others brought a nice doe and 10 point into the yard. I offered to clean up the deer and they went inside to make sure the processor was open and warm up supper. There was a miscommunicatiom as Paul and I went to work and cut up the deer and caped out the buck. They came out about 45 minutes later and we had trimmings roast and steaks in a pile on the table and their buck was a Cape with the skull attached, ready to be fully caped. Apparently, they just drop off while field dressed deer at the processor and let them debone, cape and sort the cuts, live and learn. We had a good laugh and the processor offered us jobs when we dropped off the trimmings for sausage.
Paul shot a few Axis does and I took a couple of varmints and whiffed on a pig one night. We cooked and ate like kings.
I had brought a few bags of catfish fillets I'd caught through the ice the day before I came down and we had a fish fry one night and blacked cat tacos the next night, rib eyes, venison loins.
We made new friends, had experiences beyond what we deserve and even got invited back the next year.
Year 2;
Paul remained cancer free, I was too busy with work to do the South Dakota hunts, but made it out for Thanksgiving and we firmed up our return to Texas. This time we were a little better prepared, and after asking permission, decided to bring our oldest boys, out to experience a Texas hunt. At the time my son was 7 and highly interested in hunting. His first hunts he was 2-1/2 and sat in the duck and goose blind and loved it. By 7, he'd been on some easy deer hunts and done a lot of pheasant hunts and seems pretty into it. We did a little shooting with small calibers, working on gun saftey, shot placement and the basics. We were having a lot of issues with homework and not doing.work in school. After a troubling parent teacher conference, we laid out what needed to happen to go on a hunt in Teas. We worked through the schoolwork and he was motivated to succeed and he turned it around and met the goals. At the time, it was a welcome break to be back with just his dad, like it used to be when he started hunting with me, unemcumbered by his infant and 3 year old brothers.
His job was to be my co-pilot and help navigate and pay attention to speed limits and location. We left the day after Christmas and hit ice and snow from Missouri thorough Kansas. It was a whiteknuckle ride, but quality time together undivided.
We stayed with some family friends in Dallas enjoying an amazing chili with NO beans...
To be continued.
I met my wife's cousin back in college before we were married. He is a funny super laid back guy from South Dakota who offered to drive 200 miles out of his way to help out because that's who he is. We chatted over beers at a family reunion and didnt see each other for a few years. Fast forward about ten years and a couple of phone conversations, we planned to meet up at he and my wife's grandparents farm in South Dakota for a doe hunt over Thanksgiving The hunt has since become a tradition of ridiculousness, freezer filling, family time, teaching our boys how to hunt, shoot guns and butcher as well as losing a great friend that was a cornerstone of the group to cancer.
In October 2012 I lost my sister to suicide and my hunting partner arrived in here from across the country the next day. Granted, I would see him a few days a year hunting and that was it. I'll be forever grateful for the support and assistance those days the years after when I needed to talk to someone.
In 2015, he was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer just before our South Dakota trip. With trepidation, he made the trip in the early stages of treatment, all of us knowing this was possibly the last hunt.
Hunt was great, but there was an uneasy feeling before, during and after. Right after that hunt, he received an invitation to his wife's uncle's ranch in the hill country to rest and shoot a few exotics. The cancer was really up in the air at this point, but we figured go for it, possibly now or never. I was invited to come along to help out as he was pretty weak and nobody knew what the future held. The trip had to be called at the last minute, but all were committed to making it happen. I was on standby for whatever and we talked daily about life, work, family, but mostly hunting. I'm in Minnesota and he's in Arizona, we both have kids and are typically busy with work and life, but we both came to look forward to chatting about the coming hunts, not knowing if it would ever happen. There were some tough ones talking about what ifs and offers to make sure his kids had the outdoors opportunities he would have provided.
Fall came around and I dont know where he got the strength but Paul bought a last minute ticket and I picked him up at the airport for a South dakota pheasant trip before a heavy round of treatment. We loaded up on birds, albeit slower than usual, and we still laugh about how much beer I drank while he squatted in a field, but that's just how it is. A month later we did our annual Thanksgiving South Dakota doe hunt. Paul was actually cancer free at this point, but still pretty weak and dealing with post cancer issues from surgeries and radiation.
If a days hunting was slow, we gave him a hard time for not dying, as he promised to lead us to the game from above if he didnt make it.
The offer still stood to go to Texas on a hunt, which we coined the "Make a Wish" hunt. We're mildly inappropriate, but that's how we roll.
I had a million questions about the hunt I was a guest on, but planned to go have a good time no matter what. Normally, I plan and research things to a t, whether it's a big trip, or an annual trip to hunt the same land. I literally drove to Junction from Minneapolis without even knowing exactly where I was headed, or what i was headed there for, other than to celebrate beating cancer and living life to the fullest with my hunting partner.
I had gathered a ton of information from this site and other research and was still unprepared to see the animals behind high fences as I entered this famed Hill country. I actually pulled over a handful of times just to look at roadkill animals I had not seen in person other than a museum including evwn a pig! On top of that, when I stopped, somebody else stopped to see if I was okay, assuming i had hit the animals. I quickly came to appreciate Texans.
The excitement of being able to ride along on this hunt for who knows what with Paul was overwhelming. Stopping at Whataburger and some of the BBQ joints along the way continued to make it greatness, you guys have no idea the little things you may take for granted.
I was told to call from Junction and they'd meet me along the road and let me through the gate. The gate?!!!
I had asked about a hundred times if place was high fenced and even where it was, what we'd be after, bow or gun, which license I needed, you known just some basic essential information, and I just got the usual Paul answers of I don't know, but who cares, we'd have fun looking for woodticks, just show up. It got to the point where I was questioning driving 20 hours to go along on a hunt that I wasn't sure even existed. Its an uneasy excitement, as I don't get a ton of time away from the family business and I'm careful to go to the best places at the best time or dont go. I'd rather drive 20 hours than 2 for something better, and here I was committing some time to something I knew nothing more about than it was outside a town called Junction and had a lot of animals, whatever that means.
I met Paul's Uncle and his son at his truck along the road shook hands and followed them through the big iron gates. We drove in a ways seeing critters here and there and my mind racing as I realized this was really happening and the realization that I was at a high fence hunting spot in the Texas hill country.
I brought my things inside and looked out the back window to a feeder and saw a nice black buck walk up. It was surreal.
We checked zero on guns while Paul's uncle made us some lunch and sent us out to one blind and his son and daughter in law to another.
Even the blinds were exciting, we could see feeders, pens, water, tons of smells of cedar, mesquite and the soil, and even the sounds of birds (living in Minnesota, the songbirds leave in the winter and it gets real quiet outside).
We sat there giving each other a stupid grin talking about how great it was to have simply made it here, when the axis, whiteails and black buck came in as well as sika does. We were looking at axis does to shoot, but we were not 100% of what we could shoot yet and if we were looking at mature animals having never seen these thing on the hoof. We just hung out, rather than take chances. With all that we were seeing the first evening, we figured there would be lots of opportunity and we'd heard some shots from other blind so we figured we'd act like guests and not shoot, especially if there was game to clean already. The others brought a nice doe and 10 point into the yard. I offered to clean up the deer and they went inside to make sure the processor was open and warm up supper. There was a miscommunicatiom as Paul and I went to work and cut up the deer and caped out the buck. They came out about 45 minutes later and we had trimmings roast and steaks in a pile on the table and their buck was a Cape with the skull attached, ready to be fully caped. Apparently, they just drop off while field dressed deer at the processor and let them debone, cape and sort the cuts, live and learn. We had a good laugh and the processor offered us jobs when we dropped off the trimmings for sausage.
Paul shot a few Axis does and I took a couple of varmints and whiffed on a pig one night. We cooked and ate like kings.
I had brought a few bags of catfish fillets I'd caught through the ice the day before I came down and we had a fish fry one night and blacked cat tacos the next night, rib eyes, venison loins.
We made new friends, had experiences beyond what we deserve and even got invited back the next year.
Year 2;
Paul remained cancer free, I was too busy with work to do the South Dakota hunts, but made it out for Thanksgiving and we firmed up our return to Texas. This time we were a little better prepared, and after asking permission, decided to bring our oldest boys, out to experience a Texas hunt. At the time my son was 7 and highly interested in hunting. His first hunts he was 2-1/2 and sat in the duck and goose blind and loved it. By 7, he'd been on some easy deer hunts and done a lot of pheasant hunts and seems pretty into it. We did a little shooting with small calibers, working on gun saftey, shot placement and the basics. We were having a lot of issues with homework and not doing.work in school. After a troubling parent teacher conference, we laid out what needed to happen to go on a hunt in Teas. We worked through the schoolwork and he was motivated to succeed and he turned it around and met the goals. At the time, it was a welcome break to be back with just his dad, like it used to be when he started hunting with me, unemcumbered by his infant and 3 year old brothers.
His job was to be my co-pilot and help navigate and pay attention to speed limits and location. We left the day after Christmas and hit ice and snow from Missouri thorough Kansas. It was a whiteknuckle ride, but quality time together undivided.
We stayed with some family friends in Dallas enjoying an amazing chili with NO beans...
To be continued.
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