By: Ted Nugent
This morning, again, I cruised the plethora of trails bisecting my sacred Michigan hunting grounds, and literally wallowed and danced in unlimited spirit.
In the first hour of cruising the swamplands in my Roxor offroader, I was blessed with the uniquely massive stimuli factor offered by the numerous deer sightings, beaver, otter, mink, a raccoon, possum, muskrat, turtles, a snake, frogs, red squirrels, fox squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits, a groundhog, pheasant, woodcock, turkey, sandhill cranes, ducks, geese, swans, herons, crows, hawks, owls, a bald eagle, a pair of big, hammering Pileated woodpeckers and probably 30-40 species of birdlife, all singing and warbling the intoxicating soundtrack to my favorite life beyond the pavement.
I stop often, shut off the diesel engine, sit a spell and listen, then wander off, gorging on delicious wild berries and checking and adjusting treestands here and there.
My dogs Happy, Sadie and Coco joined me over the distant hogback ridge to check out a few remote foodplots, all doing fantastic from the rainy spring and summer so far.
It was good to see the oak trees are already showing a killer mast crop coming on strong.
The many wild apple trees are heavy with fruit again this year.
We stopped at a few Shadow Hunter blinds to sweep them out, secure the windows and give them a good going over.
We spiced up a bunch of old mineral licks with fresh product and even touched up a few mock scrapes we keep going all year long.
I fired up the chainsaw and cleared a bunch of fallen trees and limbs that interfered with select trails that I know I will hunt soon.
With each step in my precious wild, I was flooded with searing, graphic, happy memories of many past hunts and adventures. All the old deer trails are still beaten down and worn deep and most of the historical licking branches, rubs and scrapes are still here.
With the aid of my Miracle Ear hearing aids, the nonstop cacophony of birdsong was literally titillating and kept a big smile on my face all morning.
I do a variation of this boondock run every day of my life. It is good for the soul, good for the body, great for the spirit, and outright inspiring musically.
It might not be hunting season just yet, but I sure won’t wait for any specific time of year to get out there and let nature heal and inspire me. All this outdoor fun translates into deerseason preparation scouting at its finest and most effective.
As my killer band and I rock our brains out at rehearsal for what is guaranteed to be the best, most intense crazy fun tour of our lives, this quiet, introspective time in the great outdoors might be a bit more important for this old MotorCity Madman Gonzo rocker than your average civilian.
Rocking like animals six nights a week, a different city every night for six weeks could actually be dangerous for an old guy like me, but the powerful fortification of my time in nature gives me the spirit and energy of a young man on a mission.
Our predator radar needs constant nurturing, honing and tuning. It is fun, interesting and effective using trailcameras to monitor our wildgrounds when we can’t be there, but whenever possible, actually walking and connecting to that wildground will serve us much better than any technology possibly can.
I make it a point to manage my clock and calendar to accommodate and maximize my being one with nature. The older I get, the more important it is.
If you’re going to unleash such high energy, killer rock-n-roll like me and the boys do every night every summer, you are best prepared with the Spirit of the Wild in your belly.
It’s good for you! We all need it. We all crave it. Get out there! It won’t be long now!