Thursday, September 24, 2020
By: Ted Nugent
Mercy, mercy me, was I a hyper rapscallion ridgerunning MoFo back in the good old days as a young whippersnapper deerhunting fool or what?
Clearly, there is no what, for the inescapable evidence tells no lies and my youthful incendiary vaportrail in the wild burns on!
I mean, when I hunted partridge and timberdoodles behind my trio of equally hyper Irish Setters, Paco, Popeye and Pinecone, we covered ground like some sort of swamp bustin, timber scrambling Olympic Samurai sodbustin marshland maniacs. We’re talking, miles, and miles, and miles and miles and miles each morning when the flight birds were in, and then we would grab a quick bite, dump our hard earned gamebag full of birds, reload, oilrag down the short barreled side by side 20 gauge then head right back out to do it again.
After yet many more bone fatiguing trudging miles, a quick change of clothes, a hot shower and getting the amazing hounds fed, watered and kenneled up, I would race to my favorite high ridge makeshift treestand with my trusty bow and arrow for another thrilling afternoon of deerhunting.
I look back and chuckle with pure happiness and thankfulness at the incredible pace I would maintain each fall season, then I sit here in the fall of 2020 and realize those crazy fast paced days afield are pretty much done with, over and out.
Thursday, September 17, 2020
By: Ted Nugent
We all know that every hunt is a very special experience. We so eagerly anticipate each fall season that it is hard to put into words the excitement we actually feel coursing through our veins this wild time of year.
People often ask me what my favorite alltime hunt is, and I always respond, “My next one!”
Each outing provides its own unique set of dynamics and as we move on in life, we tend to cherish each and every detail of the overall adventure.
As I excitedly plunge into my huntseason 2020, my long-awaited Michigan bear tag represents one of the most desirable hunt opportunities of my life.
I’ve killed many bears over the years across North America, and each and every one of them is powerfully special and memorable. Bears are a fascinating animal and the wild grounds in which they inhabit accentuates every hunt for sure.
But when you draw a bear tag for your own privately owned bear infested family hunting grounds in an area that had no bears at all when I first explored that region 50 some years ago, the hopes and dreams of this hunt take on a whole accelerating dynamo.
Wednesday, September 9, 2020
By: Ted Nugent
I am a gungho deerhunter, but much more than that, I am a gungho hunter of allthings fun, sport, meat, trophy conservation!
Every deerhunter that I know also hunts all sorts of smallgame and big game here, there and everywhere.
“I hunt too much!” nobody ever said!
As much as I absolutely love deerhunting, I do indeed crave my sacred time in the duckblind with Happy, Sadie and Coco when the fowl are flying.
And with all my habitat renovation and varmint control over the years, we have some incredible pheasant and rabbit hunting on the old Nugent swamp these days.
It’s been a while since I arrowed a pronghorn, elk, caribou or moose, but that’s because I so crave my time at home with my family during the fall/winter seasons and the plethora of game that abounds on our homegrounds.
Wednesday, September 2, 2020
By: Ted Nugent
My buddy, Master Bowhunter and fulltime mystical flight of the arrow maniac Tim Wells has a killer TV show titled Relentless Pursuit, and rightly so. To my way of thinking, the American Dream of life, liberty and pursuit of happiness should indeed be relentless if one is to be truly alive to the absolute fullest degree.
As a gungho lifetime guitar adventurer, my indefatigable pursuit of uncharted 6string musical outrage certainly qualifies as a fulltime relentless pursuit by any and all considerations.
Even though the size, shape and dimensions of my beautifully handcrafted Gibson Byrdland guitar necks and their 6strings have what appears to be rather limited geography and topography, I assure you, nonetheless, that there are many voices, tones, grooves, grinds, rhythms, noises, growls, screams, melodies, sonic bombasts, peaks, valleys, gorges, ravines, ridges, cliffs, emotions, dreams and unexplored terrain on that little slab of fretted wood than you can imagine that have yet to be discovered.
And discover them I shall! Relentlessly!
Thursday, August 20, 2020
By: 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.
