Thursday, February 28, 2019
By: Ted Nugent
February 28, 2019! Are you kidding me! It’s over! Are you telling me it’s over? The end! Finis! Terminus backstrapology! Bye-bye baby! Adios MoFo! See ya! So long! It’s over Rover!
With tears streaming down my face, a lumpy gulp in my throat and a broken heart, my emotions got the best of me as I say; “adios deerseason 2018-2019, you were the best ever!”
The amazing Texas whitetail season throttles effervescently from October 1 thereabouts to the 1st day of March for landowners enrolled in the wonderful Managed Land Deer Permit system, where landowners determine our own bag limits and hunting methodologies. Which of course is why the best deerhunting on planet earth is in Texas, for everyone knows government bureaucrats are no match for the boots-on-the-ground passion, knowledge, capabilities and wisdom of free American earthly stewards.
Thursday, February 14, 2019
By: 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… Full Story
Thursday, February 7, 2019
By: 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, 2019
By: 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 17, 2019
By: 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.
Thursday, January 3, 2019
By: 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, 2018
By: 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, 2018
By: 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, 2018
By: 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.
