Ghosts In The Woods

By: Ted Nugent I wander the wild on a daily basis. It’s just what I do. I fortunately carved out my ultimate American outdoor lifestyle Dream long, long ago to make sure I lived my life, liberty and pursuit of gonzo happiness with everything I got, and everything that God gave me, and the rewards are immeasurable. My radar picks up on the smallest of surrounding detail as I cruise my sacred wildgrounds, and I see, hear, smell and feel new things each day that spark interest, intrigue, fascination, and wonderful memories. There’s an old scrape there, a buckrub, a blowdown, deerbed, a new trail, turkey scratchings, a birdnest, some old bones, a shed antler, some feathers from an unlucky victim of a predator, and an endless plethora of earthly goodies that never fail to stimulate and educate me. More and more lately I’ve been taking note of old, historical treestand remnants that bring a glowing smile to my face, for those old pieces of dilapidated, busted-up 2x4s hanging precariously from forked branches bring a flood of amazing forever moments strategizing to ambush a backstrapper.