Tuesday, January 2, 2018By: Ted Nugent Deer. Those, beautiful, spectacular, always fascinating deer. I have a funny feeling that if you’re reading this here NugeBlog that you and I share this quality of life stimulating relationship and admiration for our brother the deer. I love deer. And though the role they play in our lives is powerful and…
Friday, December 22, 2017By: Ted Nugent It was kind of dark, another misty dusk, and it came from a tangle down below! That is the opening stanza of the 3rd verse of my magical spirit song Fred Bear, and I cannot tell you how many times those real hunting world lyrics have unfolded for me and many other…
Thursday, December 7, 2017By: Ted Nugent
Ahhhhh….. December! At last! This wonderful last month that brings a blazing end to another incredible year that may very well be the best hunting month of all.
Say YOWZA like you mean it!
With sheer joy and a Cheshire grin, I recount the many exciting days, sunrises, sunsets, the many earth shattering deer encounters, the effervescent paths of many mystical flights of many arrows, the humbling spiritual moments of critter recoveries, the sizzling of backstraps on an open fire, all the good, the bad and the ugly of always challenging time afield during our precious hunting season so far this year.
When the deerhunting is all said and done, I believe it really boils down to an amazing series of very special and very diverse hunting memories that we can take with us through life. And of all the moving memories we are lucky enough to pursue and accumulate, for me the best of the best are the times with special people around those special flame glowing deerhunting campfires.
Sure, at the end of each hunting day, after sitting and waiting and tracking and dragging and loading and gutting and hanging our hard-earned prizes, sometimes there is little opportunity for an actual campfire, but the gatherings around the buckpole or woodstove or just sitting down to the dinner table together are slight yet powerful variations on a campfire theme and we cherish them all.
Since I hunt every day and host and guide 50 to 100 hunters each fall and winter, our extended campfire time reminds us all how this timeless primal hunting life coalesces the absolute best aspects of our very existence.
In a world otherwise gone mad and turned upside where the government, media, Hollywood and academia all scramble to make right wrong and good bad, nothing brings truth, logic and commonsense so powerfully back into focus like a bunch of American hunters around a fire.
Thursday, November 30, 2017By: Ted Nugent
I hope you are all celebrating every day in the deerwoods with deep, passionate appreciation for this incredible nature lifestyle and calling that we are so blessed to live and embrace. I am here to tell you that I sure am. And yes, it takes serious nerve, energy, spirit, physical and emotional management to get us through some of the frustrations, ups and downs and inescapable hunter fatigue that hits all of us as the season throttles on.
But let it be known by all good hands-on conservationist adventurers across the hinterland, never ever forget that even the most nerve wracking moments on the hunt are still some of the very best moments life has to offer.
I keep telling myself this and force myself to never allow a negative thought or moment to enter or interfere with my sacred sanctuary of pure predatorship. Ever!
Opening up my 68th deerseason on our sacred homegrounds in Michigan was as thrilling as ever. Good herd rebound after the EHD scourge of a few years ago is proof-positive that Ma Nature can and does take care of her critters in a rather miraculous way.
As usual, way too many carcasses could be seen strewn about the highways and bi-ways, and the corn and bean crops again showed a resurgence of serious depredation.
With dedicated scouting, strategizing and gungho hunting, my backstrap boogie throttled on nicely in the woodlands, swamps, marshes and croplands of southern Michigan and I celebrated many beautiful arrows on numerous stunning beasts.
My Queen of the Forest wife Shemane and son Toby remained skunked after many sojourns afield, but daughter Sasha was able to kill a handsome 8-point buck with her .450 Bushmaster sniper Ruger.
With family scattered across America, we decided to head home to SpiritWild Ranch in Texas for a ThanXgiving holiday feast and the kickoff to our Texas deerseason. In our absence the deer had no idea that a hunting season was even on. The bucks were rutting hard and the whole ranch was saturated with the lovely nostril flaring stench of black-goo tarsal gland aroma, and I liked it.
Thursday, November 23, 2017By: Ted Nugent
I thank God everyday that I’m a deerhunter! Swear to God I do! And you should too. What a powerfully dynamic, extremely lucky aliveness we live!
I have SO much to be thankful for, and of course it begins with health, family, country and freedom!
As I rise and shine all bright-eyed and bushytailed eager to go again on this ThanXgiving Day 2017 for my 58th day of nonstop hunting since late September, I often wonder if non-hunters truly grasp the concept of ThanXgiving as powerfully as we hunters do.
Can a sunrise on a walk in the park or on the beach be as moving as the ones we live from our deerstands, literally smack dab in the middle of its deadringer inner glow as an integral player in nature?
Can that store bought butterball provide anywhere near the deep appreciation that our haunch of hard-earned, hands-on, natural predator venison delivers to a hunting family?
I am convinced that even though hunting isn’t for everyone, I cannot imagine a lifestyle that comes anywhere close to hunting, so deeply intertwined with God’s miraculous creation and sense of individual fulfillment experienced as an independent procurer of one’s natural sustenance according to God’s tooth, fang and claw plan and design.
Let us give sincere thanks that we are Americans, where we the people choose our individual life, liberty and pursuit of backstrap happiness.
Give thanks for the hero warriors of the US Military for their dedication and sacrifice for good over evil.
Thursday, November 16, 2017By: Ted Nugent
Dream on! Never stop believing, never stop dreaming! And I’m not talking Tinkerbell or Peter Pan dreams either. I’m talking big buck dreams from the big buck dreamlands in our dreamy little deerhunting heads!
I don’t have a crystal ball or a magical future predictor of any kind. In fact, I am always amazed at so many deerhunters whom I know that consistently predict which buck will show up where and when. I strategize with all the smarts and experienced hunches I can muster, but it has always been a random roll of the dice for this old backstrapper.
I dream nonetheless and have on more than one occasion made some bold, cocky predictions of my own that unfortunately have never come to fruition.
But on November 2, 2017, the planets aligned, and my radar was on an alltime high and my luck meter pegged.
And it goes like this……
Thursday, November 9, 2017By: Ted Nugent
I knew it was a perfect morning. Cold, overcast, dank, dark, solid, gentle west, southwest breeze and I was in a perfect tree at the edge of a perfect cattail marsh that I hadn’t hunted yet this fall. You know the feeling. I could smell it in the air. My predator instinct was at full mast and giddy!
Geese gurgled, splashed and squawked in the nearby pond, along with the occasional mallard quack and wood duck whistle.
Crows sounded off in the distance, a dog barked and a tractor cranked to life way yonder. The American bowhunters soundtrack was right on schedule. I even heard that lovely far away train whistle.
Able bodied SpiritWild VidCamDude in training Ethan Wiskur was at my side, cocked, locked and ready to rock doc! As a serious Michigan bowhunter his bad self, Ethan was in full-on stealth/kill mode and loving every soul cleansing minute of it. We sat there poised like deadly statues, ready to perform our predator duties for God.
Chipmunks, red squirrels and big, fat fox squirrels scurried about heather and yon, and birdlife was abuzz with winter preparations.
It was definitively soothing to say the least.
Sitting in one of my alltime favorite deerhunting ambush sets, I was slightly let down that we had not seen a single deer in the first two hours of our vigil. I know damn well it is all about “right place right time”, but still I was truly expecting more action.
Barely a flicker of nearly invisible white got my predator eye way off around 90 yards to the north, and we had game on!
My Bushnells showed me the rear half of a deer descending the ridge toward the marsh, but it was another fifteen minutes or so before the big doe was visible again below us.
Now there were two big swamp donkeys ever so slowly meandering and browsing our way taking their good old time.
After a nerve wracking long wait, the lead doe turned right to ascend the slope to my left, and when she paused at 12 yards with her head behind a tree, my 50-pound Mathews Halon came back gracefully, pin settling on her crease, and THWACKO! Thar she blows!
This terminally smacked she-deer exploded behind us on a deathrun while the 2nd doe flinched and watched her go.
Thursday, November 2, 2017By: Ted Nugent I love life! I mean I really really love life! I love waking up every day! I love spring and summer and fall and winter. I love my wife and family and my dogs and my friends as much as a man can love anything. I love my guitars and love creating…
Friday, October 27, 2017The mystical flights of my October arrows have indeed been exciting beyond words this glorious fall bowhunting season 2017! Sure there is that doggone October lull we always hear about, but what might be a lull to some is certainly no lull for me. I’m allergic to lulls. Don’t believe in em.
I’m out there every day, every morning and every afternoon, for good Lord almighty, it is hunting season every day after all and I am not quitting no matter what.
And like every other hunter on earth, I of course get frustrated and somewhat agitated on occasion after many a days skunked, but I will be damned if I am going to sit on a couch when I could be out there in the deerwoods, and I am reminded every season at some point just how persistence and indefatigable dogged due diligence will eventually pay off.
And so it was on October 13, after I made my annual call to my rock-n-roll buddy Sammy Hagar to wish him a happy 70th birthday, that I once again slowly trudged through the muck infested fen onto a high glacier cut Michigan swamp-woods forest ridge to ascend into my deadly Earl’s Ridge ambush ladder.
With numerous fat backstrapper does hanging in the cooler and having passed on many younger bucks, I really wasn’t all that excited about a mid-October sunny afternoon set, but I was nonetheless thrilled to be out here in the lap of God no matter what happened.
A handsome studly bulbous furry nubbined buttonbuck entertained SpiritWild VidCamDude Ethan Wiskur and me for over an hour gobbling up a few bushels of acorns, and the setting sun washed the woodlands with the most beautiful fiery glow a fall color-lover could ever hope to see.
Thursday, October 19, 2017By: Ted Nugent
It was thirty years ago this month that I walked with a giant for the very last time. Privileged beyond words to be the invited guest of the great Fred Bear at his beloved annual Grouse Haven deercamp in the big woods of Michigan, there was nothing in this world that could keep me away from spending such earth-moving time with the legendary bowhunter and conservation visionary.
My cherished times with Fred going all the way back to my youth were always incredibly special, but the magical setting of an autumn woodland colorfest during bowseason with The Man was literally off the charts exciting.
Surrounded by old hunting buddies and Bear Archery associates from around the country, the atmosphere verily glowed with the essence of the bowhunting life.
Chats around the campfire and fireplace, dining, sitting back sharing hunting tales and lies, making the rounds spreading corn and sugar beets at all the various deerstands, shooting our bows at the range and just classic deercamp hanging out and camaraderie was all so damn special there are no words to describe the magical aura and pulsations of it all.
Old Doug Walker was there. Bob Munger, Dick Mauch, Erv Wagner, Sheriff Bob Blevins, Sherwood Schock, Hap Fling, Dick Lattimer, Frank Scott, Astronaut Joe Engle, so many good friends and A list players from the original days of bowhunting’s rebirth. Every year was the bowhunting camp to end all bowhunting camps.
On that October day 1987 thirty years ago, Fred and I had the rare moment to have some time alone together as everyone else headed to their deerstands. Doing everything I could to be sure I wasn’t being a pest to Fred, I would always opt to stick around camp with him instead of hunting some mornings and afternoons.
Those that knew Fred were well aware of his great sense of humor and there was never a dull moment with him.