Opening Day of Archery

The rising sun revealed a clear blue sky and a sea of tall green grass covering the ground of a massive clear-cut, where the timber company had removed practically every stick of lumber. If it were not for the environmental laws protecting the narrow strip of hardwoods growing along the natural streams, I'm sure I wouldn't have had the tree I found myself sitting in that morning. By personally hauling thousands of tons of cut trees to the wood mills, seeing them processed into finished products (paper, boards, railroad ties etc.), I was able to fully appreciate the delicate balancing act performed by the all the various people in their respective organizations, to preserve the status quo. I said a little prayer of thanksgiving to the Lord for giving us the wisdom as a society to preserve His precious gift.



An unsuspecting hummingbird appeared directly in front of me and found a watering hole in an oak tree thirty yards away. I enjoyed the distraction and watched it zip around the trees, marveling at its ability to do so without crashing. I began daydreaming and thinking of my son Michael, who was then and still is, working his but off (literally) in the USArmy. A feeling of pride engulfed me as I pictured him studying very hard to complete his advanced training. (Please don't forget to pray for all of the members of our armed forces. Thanks.)

Seemingly out of nowhere a very loud thrumming noise from an unknown source, invaded my brain through my left ear. Whatever it was, was very close and startled me so much my body involuntarily flinched. My head snapped to the left preparing to take defensive measures and was tickled to see the hummingbird buzzing, inches away from my nose. I was surprised to see one of God's smallest creatures making so much noise, until I remembered I was wearing a hearing aid cranked up to maximum volume. The critter had apparently noticed me sitting still and became curious to see what crazy human would try to pretend to be part of a tree and acting like a nut.

Once satisfied I was no threat to him or had any designs for his watering hole, the tiny bird kicked it into high gear and zipped away. My eyes followed the flight path and caught a flicker of movement, behind a merckle bush thirty yards away. They focused on the head of a doe appearing in a tiny opening. My mind instantly recognized the opportunity to harvest the animal would soon occur. It knew, she only had to take two more steps to clear the obstruction from the path of the arrow's flight.

I began to slowly rise from my sitting position while the leafy bush had the same effect of blocking her view of me. My arm pulled the bowstring back and anchored the mechanical release to my right ear. My eye placed itself to see through the sight and peer along the thirty-inch length of the arrow. A diamond sparkle of sunlight reflected off of the tip of the razor-sharp broadhead. My body was tuned and I was ready.

The adrenaline flowed through my veins and caused my heart rate to increase, pounding. All of my other senses had also came online, to a heightened state of readiness. Time seemed to stand still. After placing second in a state-wide archery tournament, my confidence of bringing home the venison was at an all time high. I just knew it was about to happen. All of the long hours of work and preparedness was about to pay off.

Seconds seemed to stretch into eternity, but the stubborn deer refused to step out from behind the bush. The bowstring began to exert its will to return to its original position, forcing me to increase the strength in my arm to resist the sixty pound pull. The extra strength provided from the initial burst of adrenaline was abondoning me and I was becoming weaker. I watched the sight began to wobble in erratic motions and slowly released the pressure off of the string to return it to its normal position. I didn't want to wound the animal by risking a bad arrow placement.

I watched the solitary bush for the next hour and a half expecting to see the the doe again and it never happened. The thing had pulled a Houdini magic act right in front of my eyes. I wouldn't trade the whole experience for any other on opening morning. I thanked God for the gift and waited for my two buddies to come fetch me. No Primer and Number One showed up a short time later and reported an uneventful morning. The three of us put our heads together and decided it was time to implement "plan B," for the afternoon hunt.

. . . stay tuned, it only gets better!

Opening Weekend

The piney woods were calling and "No Primer" Shannon, "Number One" Ian and I "Deadeye" were going to visit. The long anticipated opening day of archery season had finally arrived and the three of us were going to Clear Creek Wildlife Management Area, last Friday.



Since I was forced to work that afternoon, my two compadres hooked up the old airstream I've been working on all summer to the truck and left me standing in the yard inhaling their dust. I must admit with tears threatening to form in my eyes (from the dust) I suffered through a range of different emotions (not all good) as I watched the young-hunters depart, in my opinion, a little to gleefully. I thought the two could have at least shown a little reluctance in leaving me behind. I forced myself to be comforted by thinking of the dove stew Number One said he would have waiting for me when I arrived later that night.



I pulled into the campground around 9:30 p.m. and found two over-stuffed hunters lazily lounging in their chairs. I made the mental observation they looked like two swollen frogs ready to pop, from eating all of the stew of course. Well, okay, not quite all, after scraping the crust off of the bottom of the cast iron pot, I did have enough to temporarily satisfy my hunger I ate the delicious meal while the two swollen bellies watched and crookedly grinned, in obvious gas pain or from sharing a secret joke. I'll sum it all up by just saying, the two dove, one pigeon and gravy was delicious and if the roles were reversed, I'd probably eaten it all by myself.

I went to bed contented, already knowing we were going to have a great huntin' season together, new stories were waiting to be written and memories created.

Archery Tournament

During 3d archery shoot held at the Lake Charles Archery Club a fellow I have not met before approached Shannon (No Primer), Ian (Number One), and I. His name is Brandon Collins, the owner of an internet outdoor outfitter business located in Leesville. He wanted to inform us he is a sponsor of a state wide tournament being held in Opelousas and invite us to compete. Telling us a thirty dollar entry fee was all that was required to compete against the best archers in the state. We could win the bragging rights and a gold, silver or bronze belt buckle, if we placed first, second or third. You could tell he is a good salesman by the way he worked our vanity and sold us on the idea of actually taking time out of our hectic summer schedule to drive an hour and twenty minutes last to join the competition designed by and founded by a group of guys from Oklahoma claiming to be serious bowhunters.



Now folks, please don't think we were so naive to think any one of us could actually place in the tournament full of professionals No sir, after visiting the fancy website of the previously unknown organization hosting the event, we figured we'd attend, compete, take our lumps like men are supposed to and learn hard lessons from the best. Besides, we figured no one would know us in Opelousas anyhow and therefore, could suffer our embarrassment in the relative safety of anonymity.



We arrived, saw Brandon, signed up and paid our thirty dollars to the cause. I looked around and saw countless serious-minded archers with bows of every make and model tuning up and getting ready. By the look in their eyes, we could tell we were in trouble, kittens amongst tigers. The three of us huddled and becamed determined to do our best.



After a detailed rules briefing by the officials, the course with forty stations (twenty stations shot twice) was opened to competion. We were seperated and placed in different groups containing five competitors and started flinging arrows. We shot while sitting down, standing up, leaning sideways, body facing forward-twisting around to shoot behind at far and close targets. What kind of targets? Well, let's see, there were big bears and little bears, hogs, deer, turkey, exotics and even an alligator.



When the shoot was over and the dust settled, all of the competitors were informed it would take a couple of days to tally the results and for us to check their website for the results. Before leaving the festive atmosphere, we strolled over to the display table to admire the pretty shining belt buckles and were told by the guard the winners of the treaures would soon recieve them in the mail, as if. We wiped the sweat off our brows and went home.



A few days later, word quickly spread Ian Booth (NUMBER ONE) placed first! I (now named ""Deadeye," by Ian) placed second! and No Primer Shannon Clarke placed fourth! Bottom line, Ian and I had won the gold and silver buckles. AND EARNED THE RIGHTS TO ATTEND THE NATIONAL SHOOT HELD IN ADA, OKLAHOMA! The three of us came so close to having a clean sweep for Southwest Louisiana our heads were spinning in the clouds. How's that for bragging rights.



We (mostly me) waited impatiently for the buckles to arrive in the mail. They never came. After contacting Brandon, Ian learned they would be on display at the national shoot in August and we could pick them up there, if we attended to compete. If not (and we didn't), we were told once again the buckles would be mailed to our homes, after the shoot. I told everyone I knew I would soon have a gaudy silver buckle to show them.



Again, feeling trapped in a bad movie, I found myself impatiently waiting on the mailman. I almost accomplished driving Nancy and the boys crazy by asking on a daily basis if the buckle had arrived. Days slowly turned into months and still no buckle. Finally Shannon told me he heard through the archery grapevine that the hosting organization had led us on a wild goose chase and disappeared with our thirty dollars and the buckles!



I visited their website (http://www.the3d.org/) to confirm the rumor and found it discontinued. I had to accept the rumor as truth. The shysters really had disappeared into the nether world! I hope they get lost and stay there. But hey, scout's honor, we were champions for a time and it was a lot of fun. And thank God, Ian and I didn't waste our time and money to take a trip to Oklahoma, we weren't that vain. But on the other hand now that I think about it, I'm fairly certain Ian and I would have returned to Louisiana, as champions of boxing.

Trying to catch up

I once thought that things would settle down as I grew older and I would have more time to spend with my boys. With that in mind I redoubled my efforts to catch up on my honey-do list immediately following hunting season in order to spend more time with Chris, my junior in high school. With my youngest son Patrick living in a dorm and attending the Louisiana School of Math, Science and Arts at Northwestern University located in Natchitoches, La. and the other five boys so busy doing their own thing I think they have forgotten who their Dad is, I just knew the fish crazy Christopher and I would have a fun time bonding.

In order to put the plan in action, the day after hunting season concluded saw me begin to continue the restoration of the old airstream and working on our wood canoe. The storied old boat was fast approaching sixteen years old and had developed two long cracks in the fiberglass exterior. A section of the transom also needed to be torn out and replaced, thanks to a colony of persistent and very hungry carpenter ants. And once all of that was completed the entire exterior would need to be sanded and resealed with polyurethane. All in all, you can see I had my hands quite full. Throw in Nancy's honey-do list of neglected chores for the house and later, the responsibility for mowing the neighbor's yard since his work required him to leave his expecting wife and child here to be in Florida for who knows how long, I felt a little overwhelmed and didn't see how I could pull it all off. And don't forget I still had to labor at my day job at the railroad, to put the groceries on the table.

Feeling sorry for me yet? Well, please don't, because all of that just naturally comes with the territory and is the price one needs to pay to spend the time I do in God's great outdoors. I've learned sacrifices must be made in order to reap the just rewards. But the one thing I really didn't want to surrender was the time I sought to take Chris fishing in the canoe. However, the chore of repairing the canoe was huge and threatened to sink my good intentions. Not long after starting the work, I quickly realized I may have overloaded the wagon and probably wouldn't get it done.

And then, God sent me a gift. Another son, a true compadre, a kindred soul, one I didn't know I had running around in Laredo, Texas. Now please don't get upset with me, it's nothing scandalous, I promise. Why, I've never been to Laredo in my life.

Carlos, laid off from his rail job in Laredo, traveled all the way to Louisiana to temporarily fill in the work vacancies on our end of the railroad. The first day we met, the two of us learned we had a lot in common.

My new compadre soon became bored sitting all day at the hotel with nothing to do while waiting for the call to go to work. During the downtime he came over to visit and I began teaching him how to shoot the bow. It was quite easy. He was a natural and caught on very quickly. There were a few anxious moments I thought he was going to outshoot me. It didn't quite happen, but it was close. In reward for the lessons, my compadre would prepare some delicious Mexican dishes for the family. And perhaps most important, began helping me with my chores!

He soon moved out of the hotel (he didn't have to, it was furnished by the company) and stayed with us. He adopted me as his new Dad (his real Dad had passed away) and Nancy as his new mom (commadre) and we in turn, happily adopted him and his adorable family as our own. He has a talented-beatiful wife named Cynthia and two precious little girls named Yara and Keisha. And yes, all seven of my boys were happy to have another brother and for the first time, three sisters.

Carlos was eventually called back to work in Laredo and had to return. We now speak together on a regular basis and he has come to see me since. We hope to do a little hunting together and put his newfound skills to the test. Perhaps we'll have another story for you then. In the meantime, it's important to know how intstrumental he was in helping me meet all of the impossible goals I had set for myself. But, little did I know at the time, although the canoe had been completely restored to it's original grandeur, my grand plans of taking Christopher fishing every weekend this past summer were doomed to failure. Stay tuned . . .

Summer Activities

We went to Lawton, Oklahoma to see Michael graduate from boot camp. We are all so very proud of him. While there the boys and I climbed Mt. Scott in the Wichita moutain range and spent some quality time with Michael before he continued his training. Thank God, Michael inspired me to begin walking three months prior to the visit and therefore losing thirty pounds and four inches in the waist, I had forgotten how strenuous mountain climbing is. Folks, I can't say enough to encourage you into getting out and doing a little walking on a daily basis. It has revitalized me so much so that I can proudly proclaim I am now ready for hunting season to begin. If I can do it, anybody can.

Michael was so committed to joining the US Army he lost approx. seventy pounds by dieting and excersizing. I literally watched my son melt before my eyes! Word spread about town and the next thing I knew a reporter from the Lake Charles American Press was showing up to interview Michael for a human interest story. Her name was and still is Claudette and the story she wrote made the front page! Like I said, we're all real proud of him for his determination to see his goal completed and for inspiring the rest of us and others to work to stay healthy.

Something else you may need to know is Claudette is not your average everyday newspaper reporter. She also happens to be the editor for the OUTDOOR section of the paper. And I've been one her biggest fans ever since she had signed on with the paper. Talk about God putting the right people in your life!

During the elapsed time since first meeting her, I've managed to introduce her to the challenges of archery with the help of the Lake Charles Archery Club and gar fishing. She's fun to be around and a quick learner. She also is in possession of one of my manuscripts of the hopefully soon to be published book, "My Father's Gift." Of course I feel like I'm on the hot seat and nervously await her judgement.

Speaking of the book, I've recently recieved an endorsement from Rev. Gene Winkler after he was so gracious of taking the time to review it. He said he thoroughly enjoyed reading the book during a recent family trip and ended up having to share it with the rest of his family and hoped I didn't mind. You see, what happened was this: Rev. Gene had sat in back reading and chuckling while his son drove and his wife sat up front wondering what was wrong. He had to tell them and of course I didn't mind!

Another thing, some months ago a dear friend of cousin Colleen came all the way from California to visit. Colleen had brought her over to our home so we could have the pleasure of meeting her, for the first time. The subject of my writing came up and the next thing I knew, Kay began reading the manuscript. They had an appointment to keep and Colleen kept nagging her to put it down, but she refused! She flatly told Colleen she was the one responsible for her starting to read it and now she had to see it to the end, to sit down and relax. And she did! Like I've said that was some months ago and I haven't heard from Kay since. That is until recently, I was surprised to recieve through the mail, via Colleen, one of author Patrick F. McManus' books titled "The Night The Bear Ate Goombaw." Kay had inscribed inside the front cover how she found my writing very similar and how the book had once belonged to her beloved late husband Roger. I am so humbled. Thank you Kay, for the precious gift and your encouraging words. I'm reinspired and I promise to continue to do my best to see the book published for you and for Roger.