Thursday, February 14, 2019By: Ted Nugent “Ooohhh…. It’s gamey!” “I tried venison once but didn’t like the gamey taste”. In my lifetime of never-ending worldly travels, the subject of hunting and wildlife always comes up. Everybody knows I’m a gungho lifetime hunter and they always remark that I appear pretty healthy for a 70-year-old gonzo rock-n-roll explorer. Remaining…
Thursday, February 7, 2019By: Ted Nugent I walk the wild. I’ve walked the wild for my entire 70 years and I know what I see. I determined early on that my quality of life and overall American Dream will be ultimately enjoyed based on my dedication to a higher level of awareness and diligent attentiveness to my surroundings, people, places, things and conditions. And I walk the wild a lot! I live in the wild, I cherish the wild, I revere the wild, I live the wild, I am the Spirit of the Wild and there is no getting away from it.
Thursday, January 31, 2019By: Ted Nugent My 70-year plus American Dream adventure blitzkrieg has been rather interesting to say the least, so far. Nonstop rock-n-roll and bowhunting has made it possible for me to hang with people from all around the world and every imaginable walk of life. At a very early age I began to figure it out that my quality of life, liberty and pursuit of happiness would indeed be determined by the quality of people I associate with. Hence, I began to ostracize liars, dopers, drunks, scammers and negative dirtbags of every stripe. I have been blessed beyond measure to hang with and become friends, even BloodBrothers, with the best of the best. I mean, come on! I bowhunted with Fred Bear, learned how to race offroad with Mickey Thompson and Parnelli Jones, communicated with Elmer Keith about handgun hunting, played bass with Chuck Berry and Bo Diddly, jammed with the elite of the elite and shared sacred campfires with the kindest, warmest, compassionate workin’ hard, playin’ hard American hunting families one could ever dream of.
Thursday, January 24, 2019By: Ted Nugent I’m sure you all felt my pain last week when I shared the agonizing horror story of missing my best buck of the season. We have all been there and know all too well the difficulty of trying to get over our painful misses. Fortunately, I was able to remedy the suffering to a great degree with the healing powers of exciting duck hunts with my beloved dogs Happy, Sadie and Coco and daily bowhunts on our Texas home property, but still the haunting image of that errant crossbow bolt flying under the armpit of that trophy buck creeped back into my psyche more often than I would have preferred. I practiced diligently with my Excalibur crossbow and various Mathews every day, and in short order felt very confident that I could and would redeem myself when the next opportunity arose.
Thursday, January 17, 2019By: Ted Nugent I missed. I mean, I missed really, really bad! I know, we all miss and it is always a painful thing. Some misses are manageable, some not so much. I am having a very hard time getting over this one. When you have been addicted to the mystical flight of the arrow as long as I have, missing the mark on occasion, even often, is just part of the projectile management lifestyle. Ya win some ya lose some. No biggie in the great scheme of things. When we miss a shot that was executed reasonably well, we can live with it. In archery some things are simply not within our control no matter how dedicated we are and how proficient we become.
Friday, January 11, 2019By: Ted Nugent Another day, another kid! Just how lucky can an old bowhunter get than getting one of the greatest joys available in life hearing from kids from all over America every day celebrating hunting and the great outdoor lifestyle in this day and age! Not a day goes by that I don’t receive a letter and photo from a young boy and or a young girl with exciting celebrations of a successful hunt. Think about that one for a minute. In 2019 in the otherwise goofy world turned upside down and our purest American culture and heritage being attacked from every angle every day, I get photos and stories from young Americans absolutely thrilled to have whacked their first deer, turkey, bear, rabbit, dove, duck, squirrel, pheasant, raccoon or any of the various species of big and small game in North America.
Thursday, January 3, 2019By: Ted Nugent Okay, let us all just admit it, that when it comes to deerhunting, no matter the quintessential, penultimate Herculean effort we put forth to strategize, plan, manipulate and intellectualize our ambush decisions in order to kill the beast, good old Mother Nature and nasty old Murphy always have the final say. And of course that is why we love/crave it so much. But on occasion, sometimes, when luck is on our side, such dedicated planning connects the predator dots, the backstrapper planets align, and God shines His miraculous love down upon us. No matter when such luck occurs, we take it, cherish it and appreciate it beyond measure, celebrating the extensive time, energy and effort investment, nearly forgetting about all those nerve wracking skunking days, and the world is all good.
Thursday, December 20, 2018By: Ted Nugent I’ve written extensively about my exciting lifetime of projectile management and the ever-loving mystical flight of the arrow, and all these 70 years later such passions run stronger than ever. Say HALLELUJAH! My daily archery/bowhunting practice sessions are serious business, certainly always outrageous fun, but quite honestly, life and death serious. My job, moral obligation and duty as a bowhunter is to kill swiftly, so accurate shot placement is as serious as it comes.
Thursday, December 13, 2018By: Ted Nugent Ahhhhh…… December 13, 1948, such a moving historical landmark! A moment in time! A day of infamy the way I see it. A wild-eyed kickoff to something big and beautiful. My favorite day ever! Seventy years ago today a rather momentous launching of little Theodore Anthony Nugent on the not so mean streets of Detroit, and rock-n-roll guitar slamming and the mystical flight of the arrow would never be the same again. What a great time to be born. Chuck Berry and Fred Bear paved the way for the most fun adventure a young whippersnapper future MotorCity Madman Whackmaster could have ever hoped for, and celebrating my 70th today is glowing proof that the American Dream is alive and well and available to anyone who plunges heart and soul into their passions.
Thursday, December 6, 2018By: Ted Nugent Every hunt is special, exciting, interesting, educational, ultraFUN and mystical to say the least. But on October 20, 2018, deep in my traditional Michigan swampland, the mysticism factor accelerated to a higher degree than usual and every thrilling moment is imprinted on my very happy psyche like a timeless drawing on cave wall. The air was so thick with wet, floating fog that you could taste the dying, golden Tamarac needles in the surrounding fen. Visibility was cut to just a few yards in my ladderstand along the winding, gurgling creek and the hammering of big, noisy Pileated woodpeckers provided the ultimate soundtrack for my Spirit of the Wild fall morning of bowhunting. Master VidCamDude Ethan Wiskur and I knew all too well how a Michigan whitetail hunter must remain silent, motionless and vigilant, so we blended in our beautiful wooded, marshy habitat like the mink, muskrat, beaver, deer, turkey, rabbits, pheasants, woodcock and other assorted wildlife with which we shared this sacred ground. We fit in and we belonged.