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.
Every one of my 70 birthdays have been celebrated deadcenter in the self-inflicted vortex of bowhunting and rock-n-roll guitarnoize, and I ain’t looking back baby!
Today there will be a large, crackling SpiritWild campfire, surrounded by family, friends, BloodBrothers, backstraps, bloody arrows, dead critters swinging from ropes, sexy guitar jams and much laughter and good cheer.
For the last 20 years, since my 50th, my birthday parties have been the ultimate birthday parties, each year somewhere in the deer infested wilds of Texas, where my fellow deerhunting rock-n-roll comrades have gathered to live life to the fullest with their old buddy Uncle Ted.
This year we rendezvous at our home SpiritWild Ranch in central Texas, where hunters from around America will join me to document the miracle of surviving yet another national rock tour and another phenomenal hunting season 70 crazy years later.
Twenty years ago, we gathered at the beautiful Rio Bonita Ranch in Junction, Texas to initiate an annual pilgrimage for the more uppity, gungho amongst us.
The next year in 2000 we went on to celebrate seventeen of my birthdays at the famous YO Ranch in Mountain Home Texas.
For the last two years we were the guests of Brent Oxley at the amazing Ox Ranch in Uvalde Texas, and I cannot begin to adequately describe the good times, killer food, glowing campfires, insane fun, contagious laughter and stunning big game kills my wonderful guests and I have experienced.
My birthday parties truly are the ultimate parties of parties.
I don’t know how the word party ever got bastardized into a drunken, stoned staggerfest, but when you party with me, great, positive memories are imprinted hard on the mind, spirit and soul, and according to the hundreds of party animals I celebrate with, each one has been the best party anyone has ever participated in.
We start each morning well before shooting light, with a wake-up call coffee and donut and bacon mountain roundtable of ambush strategies and plenty of hearty laughter.
We get everyone out to their blinds and stands before sunrise and put in a good three plus hours of hardcore hunting.
My hunters have bagged great whitetails, fallow deer, sika deer, axis deer, oryx, gemsbok, zebra, kudu, elk, red stag, blackbuck, aoudad sheep, mouflon, Corsican, red sheep, Spanish goat and an assortment of phenomenal exotic creatures from around the globe that just so happen to flourish in the great Lone Star State of Texas.
We bloodtrail and track together, take photos with the beautiful kills, drag, load, haul, gut and hang each prized trophy.
Tenderloins and backstraps are often carved out of our daily gifts of sacred flesh and more campfire time blazes on for a late morning brunch.
Triggertime at the range is always a riot for every Nugent party is humbled by the presence of US Military and law enforcement heroes that always teach us a thing or two about our aim small, miss small dreams.
The air gets thick with gunpowder residue, many arrows are flung heather and yon, and before you know it, it’s time to get back into our stands for the afternoon hunt.
More critter handling continues to be standard operating procedure after each evening hunt, and the joys of game recovery and photo taking are accelerated and amplified by the gang effect of having all your friends join in on the festivities.
Plus the dragging and loading is always easier with a dedicated crew.
Cleaned up to the best of our ability prepares us for another scrumptious meal prepared by my beautiful wife Shemane or our dedicated professional camp helpers.
Each meal is a rather boisterous affair with nonstop story-telling, outrageous lying and belly aching laughter, not unlike a roustabout beggars’ banquet as you can well imagine.
This insane fun goes on unabated for a good four days until we simply cannot take it anymore, and the last campfire of the week blazes on well into the night.
There is always cake and ice-cream, but the real definitive party atmosphere comes from the positive energy, attitude and good cheer that is the hallmark of a genuine American BloodBrother gathering.
My happy cup runneth over and there are no words to adequately describe my deep appreciation for the time spent with such wonderful people who all share the glowing truth, logic and commonsense of our divine hunting lifestyle and heritage as I celebrate yet another year of surviving and thriving with good people who share these same passions.
It’s so much fun that now we are creating an annual Uncle Ted New Years Ever Hunt Bash for real party animals that think they can handle it.
Happy birthday to me, happy New Year to me and happy hunting to everyone forever.