Thursday, August 27, 2020By: Ted Nugent I’ve been feeling it for quite a while already, and I know you have as well! Considering the dilemma of the tragic Communist Chinese virus hell 2020 bio attack on America, with so much of our normal lives being shutdown or at least dramatically reduced, never before has the fall hunting season…
Thursday, August 20, 2020By: Ted Nugent Growing up back in Detroit in the roaring 50s, every Thursday was trash day, and me and the boys were searching for the Holy Grail of recyclable garbage. We would mount our Stump Jumper Huffy and Schwinn bikes early in the morning and race from one driveway to the next, probing everybody’s junkpile for something we could use. Sometimes we would find heavy duty cardboard and wooden cigar boxes still in darn good shape, sometimes with tools, nuts, bolts, coins, bullets and assorted interesting paraphernalia and occasionally usable stuff. The treasure of treasure was the highly desirable collection of marbles, which just so happened to be the ultimate accurate ammo for our homemade slingshots.
Friday, August 7, 2020By: Ted Nugent Sniff sniff! Sniff sniff sniff!! Snort snort! Grunt sniff snortwheeze! I don’t know about you, but I smell fall! And I like it! And it is about damn time I would say! I know, I know! August isn’t exactly the window to official cool fall conditions, with lots of nasty anti-hunting crazy hot and humid days still before us, August nonetheless provides a hint of dreamy autumn things to come! It was a stupid pain in the ass 102 degrees here at SpiritWild Ranch in Texas again today, and by noon I had already gone through three different sweat soaked saturated shirts just attempting a few simple easy going chores in the so called cooler morning tempts. I did get a number of texts from my deerhunting brethren across the Midwest heartland today sharing the heartwarming news that they had hit lows in the 40s and I literally got all starry eyed with dreamy cravings for those magical frosty days of October, November and beyond. Now, mind you, I am more than well aware of my own history in the swamps of Michigan where over the years we occasionally experienced some downright uncomfortable 90 degree deerhunting days even in that neck of the northern deerwoods.
Wednesday, August 5, 2020By: Ted Nugent Spirit Campfire! What pray tell, might you inquire, could be this Spirit Campfire thang? I mean, afterall, campfires are simply a pile of burning wood in a makeshift circle, right? What possibly could spirit have to do with a good, old, simple, foot-warming campfire? I digress, for surely my brethren here at deeranddeerhutning.com understand perfectly well just how incredibly spiritual our hunting family campfires have always burned brightly for time immemorial forevermore. Just like our nonstop dynamo celebration of the Spirit of the Wild in our beloved outdoor lifestyle, those of us so deeply connected to the Good Earth and God’s miraculous renewable creation as actual participants have always understood perfectly well the physics of spirituality that represents the inescapable power and perfection of hands-on nature. Sure, the warming campfires of our hunting seasons do indeed draw our tribe inward, warm our hands and feet, and dry our wet camo regalia on those beautiful fall and winter cold, wet days of the annual harvest.
Tuesday, July 28, 2020By: Ted Nugent I can refer to you all as my Spirit BloodBrothers, can’t I! Well, of course I can! That you are reading these words in this deeranddeerhunting.com environment is irrefutable evidence that we are indeed Spirit BloodBrothers. The historical spiritual term BloodBrothers being the timeless aboriginal colloquialism of a deep, abiding brotherhood of the blood and spirit that bonded both a biological brotherhood and tribal/village brotherhood, we must remain united in our fight for the soul of America and our perfect hands-on conservation, outdoor hunting, fishing, stewardship lifestyle. That bonding code of being there for each other no matter what is alive and well right here and now during this insanity in the year 2020, and such a bond will play a pivotal role in the survival of our species. Especially our American freedom species. As deerhunters we know all too well the inescapable truism that tenacity and that indefatigable Man in the Arena nevergiveuptitude determines whether we dine on hard earned venison or end up buying chicken. As all the best elements of our American culture come under increasing attacks by strange, violent mobs, the American Man in the Arena better be prepared with an endless energy and dedication to not only hold our ground, but aggressively push back with all we got against the indisputable evil forces we are witnessing in Seattle, Portland, Los Angeles, Salt Lake City, Chicago, Minneapolis, Atlanta, Washington DC, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Detroit, Dallas, Houston, Austin, New York and beyond.
Monday, July 13, 2020By: Ted Nugent The big old swampdonkey matriarch doe was still a ways off, more than 100 yards due south of me, upwind with a strong, steady breeze at her backside. She appeared off and on as she slowly skirted in and out of the heavy cover twixt the standing cornfield and the golden marshgrass, swaying reed-hell of my magical, mystical Michigan swamplands. I was invisible, completely covered up by the huge trunk and limbs in the heavy oak leaf, dark shadowy canopy of my favorite ambush perch. The setup could not have been better as she cautiously picked her way, slow step by step towards the bean field and my killer Plot1seed.com foodplot beneath me. I’ve been bowhunting these berserk spooky whitetails for more than 65 years, so I was not surprised at all when she jerked her head up, lifted her amazing nose into the air, twisted her radar ears to and fro, stomped and snorted, then pivoted and bounded off into the woodlands like she had just run into a coiled panther.
Wednesday, July 8, 2020By: Ted Nugent Oh boy oh boy! Here I go again unleashing my firefingers of freedom attacking another unsuspecting innocent keyboard to rave and roar about the important priorities in my (our) American Dream; life, liberty and pursuit of happiness! Seeing as how this is July 9th, going down in history as the wildest of times summertime 2020, clever, intelligent priorities are more important right here and now than ever before. In some instances, a matter of life and death. So welcome once again to your glowing, loving Uncle Ted Spirit Campfire of truth, logic and commonsense deeranddeerhunting.com party as the ultimate soul cleansing escape from the abject craziness running amok across the country. Such priorities can be accomplished, and must be accomplished! I decided way back in 1967 after graduating (escaping) high school that I would live on wildground where I could shoot and hunt right out my backdoor. I may not be the smartest guy in the world, but right there is proof I am smart enough!
Friday, July 3, 2020By: Ted Nugent Oooooh! Politics! Scary stuff! Don’t wanna get too political now do we! I am told time and time again by editors, managers, agents and interviewers; Be sure we keep away from politics! With the unprecedented level of societal insanity rampaging across the country this dangerous summer 2020, I am afraid that the feeble and cowardly decision to avoid getting political has finally come roaring back to bite and brutalize America square in the hindquarters. Afterall, what exactly is politics in this sacred experiment in self-government if not responsibly engaging in the process of demanding we the people Constitutional accountability and representation by our elected employees? How dare I demand such outrage! We are now paying the price for the embarrassing self-inflicted curse of apathy standing idly by witnessing the horrific fundamental transformation of the greatest quality of life in the history of mankind.
Thursday, June 25, 2020By: Ted Nugent It was early October, 1970, and young Ted was once again up a tree, hope throttling eternal. I had already been bowhunting like a madman for nearly 20 years, following my dear old bowhunting dad, yew longbow and cedar arrows in hand, through the state and national forests of Northern Michigan each fall since I could walk. But alas, not only backstrapless, but not a single bowshot to be had at a whitetail deer in all those years. Yet here I was, back at it, gungho, bright eyed and bushytailed as eager as ever to figure out how to ambush and waylay one of these mythical beasts with a sharp stick. And finally, on this stunning fall afternoon, like an apparition from the dark forest, she came. I remember holding my breath so forcefully that I actually got a little dizzy and felt like I was about to fall off the oak limb to which I clung. Taunting me maliciously as they always d
Tuesday, June 16, 2020By: Ted Nugent Dirty hands make for a stronger heart. I just made that up. Well, I didn’t really make it up per se, but a lifetime intentionally maximizing my adventures in wild places certainly has provided me a wealth of real estate under my fingernails and the resultant dirt factor in my life has clearly increased my quality of life and happiness. Hence, my stronger heart. It is an inescapable forgone conclusion. I am not claiming to be no Davy Crocket or Sitting Bull by any stretch of the imagination, but for a Detroit guitarplayer born in the firestorm of the Industrial Revolution smack dab in the middle of the Motorcity “Arsenal of Democracy” in 1948, that I have accomplished a phenomenal balance twixt the modern gonzo metropolitan electronic concrete hell rock-n-roll hand to hand combat zone juxtaposed with the timeless primal goo of the world’s swamps, forests, lakes, rivers, marshes, deserts, jungles, mountains, farmlands and tundra as an actual participant in nature, I figure my Down To Earth quota is substantial if not downright lifesaving. I perform my we the people hellraizing duties each and every day, complete my ranch chores and unleash a series of dangerous freedom celebrating guitarlicks, then I immediately head for the bow and arrow mancave arsenal and carefully and cautiously move stealthily into the Zen of aboriginal territory where the subconscious guides me from the physical world into the spiritual zone. It is then and there the that the world is all good.