On a hot morning in September, my brother, Mark, his father-in-law, the late Scotty Scott, and I headed to a large field containing some sunflowers near Charlotte.  The dove were spotty, but there were enough of them to keep us from falling asleep.  After a couple of hours, the dove started concentrating in the field’s southwest corner, around 250 yards away from us. Read More→

I was cautiously optimistic when I pulled up to Daryl Shipper’s house on a Saturday in early October for a bow deer hunt on his new deer lease near Evant.  I was only cautiously optimistic, as although I’d seen several trail cam pictures of big bucks on the lease, I knew how hard it was to see such deer during shooting hours and, harder still, to get a shot at one within bow range.

We arrived at the ranch, met Mike (Daryl’s brother), got our bows and gear ready, and headed to the stands.  I climbed the 20-foot-tall tripod I was gifted to hunt, put my shooting glove on, nocked an arrow, and got my binoculars and rangefinder out of my backpack. Read More→

My young hands gripped the sides of the aluminum fishing boat as we hugged the shoreline to escape the horrific winds.  I had never ridden a bucking bronc before, but I was sure that this was pretty darn close.

I was scared.  Normally I loved a good thunderstorm as much as the next kid, preferring to watch them from inside a safe and dry building.  Being on a lake during a Tennessee mountain squall wasn’t really in my plans for the day.  But I had been pressed into duty due to my unique skill set.

You see, mom doesn’t swim.  Never has, unless you count the baptistery incident that we still are not allowed to speak of.  Ever.  My brother was a toddler, and my sister…well you know how dads are about daughters and protecting them. Read More→

Opening Day proved to be a perfect day for an FCS guided goose hunt – there was a high fog, it was very overcast, and it was cold for early November.

Seven friends and I met our Bill Sherrill Waterfowl guide at the Wharton Whataburger at 4:00 AM.  We ate breakfast, signed the liability waivers, and followed the guide a few miles until we stopped at a large field.

The first thing greeting us as we exited our trucks was a sound every hunter should experience at least once in their lifetime – the sound of thousands of geese honking in the distance.  Their serenade encouraged us to quickly gather our gear, white butcher coats, and stacks of white rag decoys – made out of cotton and attached to thin two-foot-long sticks. Read More→

The National Weather Service (NWS) forecasted three-foot seas for our late October FCS deep-sea fishing trip at Port Aransas (aka Port A).  However, when my five friends and I met Captain Ron Pierson at the dock Friday night before our trip, he informed us the NWS now forecasted four-foot seas.  Bravely (or stupidly), we told him such seas were no problem.

At 5:00 AM the following morning, Ron reported the seas would be even higher than forecasted.  Once again, we thought nothing of it and hopped on Ron’s Marlin Babe (a 28.2’-long, 10.7’-wide offshore charter boat) for our meeting with an oil platform 25 miles out in the Gulf of Mexico.
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I broke my first clay target on a skeet range just west of Austin at age 15.  I enjoyed breaking targets, but skeet became, and still is, too predictable for me, so I only shot clays before dove season.  But in 1993, I was introduced to the games of sporting clays and 5-stand and fell in love with them.

For years I shot at and broke more sporting clays than anyone else in FCS, which only changed when I could afford a camo bay fishing boat from which I also duck hunt.   (As hunting and fishing are my favorite sports, sporting clays takes the back seat.) Read More→

On the day before Thanksgiving, most men think about the next day’s meal and football games, but I was thinking about deer as I sat in my pop-up blind on a small property near Round Rock.

A Carbon Express Terminator arrow with a 125 grain Magnus Stinger broadhead was nocked on my Browning Midas compound bow.  My rangefinder was in my chair’s drink holder, my binoculars were draped on the chair’s other arm, my grunt call was hanging around my neck, my shooting glove was on, and I was camoed from head to toe.  I was itching to at least see a deer – I didn’t have to wait long. Read More→

On January the 1st, my son, Ryan, and the rest of his battalion headed for Iraq.  Ryan’s specialty was forward reconnaissance – a skill that wasn’t needed, as the coalition had already secured the country.  Therefore, he spent the bulk of his time guarding VIPs.  Among those he guarded were the Secretary of Defense – Donald Rumsfeld, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, four-star generals, and the Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) magazine’s editor and staff on their first visit to Iraq.  The VFW interviewed and took pictures of him.  He graced the cover of their magazine’s October issue, and they quoted him in their feature article!

Ryan was gone for almost a year, but it seemed like ten.  Every time I heard or saw in the news that a soldier had been killed or wounded, I would cringe.  I’d then be relieved when I’d learn the unfortunate soldier wasn’t him while grieving that someone else’s son had been killed or wounded.  I developed a deep longing to see and spend time with him again during that year, probably because he was frequently on my mind.
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On a cold and bright morning on the first Saturday in January, nothing was moving on my lease near Georgetown – no birds, squirrels, or deer.  It was one of those mornings that makes you question why you hunt.  As I sat in my assigned stand, debating whether I was insane or stupid for staying put, I saw movement.  I expected to see cows, but to my surprise, it was two bucks, a little more than 100 yards away and moving slowly towards me.

One buck was a young, gnarly 6-pointer.  His companion was a classic 8-pointer.  He was no Muy Grande by any stretch, but seeing this was the last weekend of the season and I had a buck tag left, I immediately decided to take him. Read More→

On a windy and chilly Friday in December, Allen Neumann and I headed to the Siller Ranch near Derby for an FCS weekend deer and hog hunt.

On the first afternoon, we hunted in a heavily wooded area.  Allen had quite a few dove and quail come to the feeder his stand overlooked, but he didn’t see any game.  I also had several dove and quail come to the feeder my stand overlooked; however, at dusk, I was blessed to see an approximately 200 lb. boar from the neighboring ranch charging straight at my corn and Pig Out Wild Beast Bait piles.  Unfortunately, he couldn’t get through the hog-proof fence, or I’d have introduced him to a Federal Nosler Partition. Read More→

On a hot Friday in late April, nine friends and I headed to the 74 Ranch near Campbellton for an FCS 24-hour sporting clays shoot.  The event included four meals and sleeping 40 winks, of course, so our shooters averaged 11 hours of shooting.

One of the Station #7 traps was very unusual.  The shooter and the traps were on the same horizontal plane at most stations; therefore, the shooter will be shooting no lower than horizontally unless there is a rabbit target.

But one particular trap was situated at the bottom of a ditch – at least 20 feet below the shooter.  The station was on the top of the hill, overlooking the ditch.  The trap threw its clays straight and level down the length of the ditch with gusto!  So the shooter had to deal with leading a fast-moving target sufficiently and shooting at a target significantly below him.

This trap was among the hardest of the 60+ traps at the 15 stations.  Most of our group dealt poorly with it, but I had the hardest time figuring it out.  I started with a two-barrel width (four foot) lead, shot at about four clays, and missed them.   My friends told me I was way behind them.  I increased my lead to six feet for the next few clays and got the same results.  My friends said I was still behind them. Read More→

There is something in angling that tends to produce a gentleness of spirit, a pure serenity of the mind” – Washington Irving

Last week I took advantage of the final night of the weekend to sneak down to some local waters for a bit of late season bass fishing.  The evening was the first after the end of daylight savings time, so I knew it would only be an hour or so of time on the water before night overtook me.

My evening arrival at the water went largely unnoticed, as I had hoped.  This place is near an urban park, not widely fished, and I hoped to avoid undue notice.  This is small water, and heavy fishing pressure could quickly damage the quality of the fishery. Read More→

On a lukewarm November morning, I sat in my wood ground blind on my lease near Georgetown and stared at white fluff (fog) for 2 ½ hours.  Nothing was moving, not even squirrels.  The fog finally dissipated around 9:00 AM, but that didn’t make anything start moving.  It was getting late in the morning, so I decided to see if I could make something happen by rattling. Read More→

Six friends and I headed to the middle Texas coast, or coastal bend, for an FCS self-guided bay fishing trip on a Friday in late July.  The late Derrich Pollock, his son Will, Steve Watkins, Jim Quimby, and I fished the Land Cut and Baffin Bay, southwest of Corpus Christi, from Jim’s bay boat.  Mark Dillow and Ronnie Ross fished Aransas Bay, northeast of Aransas Pass, from Ronnie’s bay boat.

Everyone in my group caught about ten fish on live shrimp, including speckled trout, redfish, and black drum.  The keepers were four trout and three black drums.

As is typical with fishing in the summer, as the heat rose, the fish developed lockjaw.  Around noon, we decided to head back.

I called Mark on our ride back.  He said they had caught some fish, but the fishing had slowed down considerably.  The call dropped just as I was about to ask him when they would head back.  Several attempts to reestablish contact failed.  I knew cell phone reception was notoriously bad on the coast, so I didn’t worry about it. Read More→

On a Friday evening in April, 12 friends, four sons, and I left Austin for an FCS hog hunting and work weekend at the 10,000-acre Uno Mas Ranch near Artesia Wells.  The agreement was to hunt on Saturday in exchange for work on Sunday.  We arrived at Artesia Wells four hours later.  We only had to travel dirt roads for 15 miles to reach the ranch.

Unbeknownst to us, the area had gotten heavy rain, and the dirt roads were now mud.  Paul Wilson’s Ford Ranger hit a big puddle within a mile, drowning it out, followed by several vehicles getting stuck.  Se also missed our turn three times.  Randy Slagle’s four-wheel-drive Chevy Z71 pickup truck with all-terrain tires pulled the stuck vehicles out, which took a long time as he had to unhitch his trailer, pull the stuck vehicle out, and re-hitch his trailer.

Four hours later, at 3:00 AM, Kevin Font’s Chevy Suburban got stuck to both axles.  Most of the group decided to camp next to Kevin’s SUV, but Paul and I decided to look for the ranch.  We thought we had found it but were unsure, so we camped on the side of the road by our vehicles. Read More→

On an overcast Saturday morning in June, three friends and I arrived at a nice middle-class neighborhood near Georgetown for an FCS self-chartered fishing trip on the San Gabriel River.  Mark Dillow parked his truck between two houses, next to a trail leading downhill into some woods.  Mark, Kevin Wall, and James Bean gathered their fly fishing tackle and I grabbed my baitcasting tackle.

We were soon standing at the banks of the ultra-clear river.  Mark and Kevin went upstream, and James and I went downstream.  As we trekked along, the river became shallower.  James stopped there, but I kept going.  In about 100 yards, the water careened over a big rock shelf into a pool.  And that’s where I saw my quarry. Read More→

On the first day of February, eight friends, my son, Ryan, and I headed for a weekend FCS self-guided hog hunt with Texas Wild near Cross.  I killed two hogs – a 175 lb. boar and a 120 lb. sow, David Chalmers killed a 140 lb. boar, and Tim and Jesse Price killed 50 lb. sows.  First-time guests Eddie Lee Toohey and Jim Bob Cohenour missed a sow, or we would have killed six.  Still, killing five hogs was our second-best hog hunt up to that date.

Jimmy Cohenour, a first-time guest on that hunt, was skunked.  After hunting two other ranches with the same results, Jimmy decided to develop a hog hunting ranch.  He bought 100 acres bordering the Colorado River near Blessing, installed an electric fence (except along the river), and built a small bunkhouse.  When he told me he was offering hunts, I booked one for Ryan’s 18^th birthday weekend.

Ryan, his friend, Kelvin Cheung, and I arrived at Jimmy’s ranch on the evening of December the 29^th.  14-year-old Jim Bob, who ran hunting operations, recommended stalk hunting, but we asked to hunt from stands, as it was almost dark. Read More→

On a dark and cold February night, three friends and I went white bass fishing on Lake Travis, west of Austin.  After we launched the late Derrich Pollock’s bass boat, we proceeded to go glass minnow hunting.  Derrich drove his boat at idle speed close to shore and shined a spotlight in front of and next to his boat while Eddy Chance scooped up minnows with a long minnow net.

We headed to the Cedar Park pump station after catching enough glass minnows to fill a medium-sized minnow bucket.  We tied up, put fishing lights down around 20′, and started dunking minnows.  After an hour of not much success, we decided to try the Jonestown pump station.

As soon as we tied up there, we started catching white bass.  They were huddled up near the bottom and were hungry!  We caught white bass steadily.  But the minnows weren’t looking very good after another hour – several appeared to be near death.  Derrich asked Eddy to add fresh water to the minnow bucket, as he was closest to it.  Little did we know how enthusiastically Eddy would complete this task. Read More→

On the first Friday in June, Jim McGee and I headed to the 300-acre Independence Ranch near Gonzales to hunt hogs.  The ranch only allowed stalk hunts during the day.  The guides paired hunters up and dropped them off at various locations, several hundred yards apart.  We encountered deer, elk, and buffalo – but no pigs.  We hunted until about 6:00 PM and then came back in for dinner.

Due to the cooks being late with dinner, the guides didn’t take us to our stand until after dark.  When we got to our stand, we were dismayed to find a herd of nine buffalo, including two calves, had taken up residence where we’d put our corn earlier.  Not having the option to hunt another stand, we decided to let them be, hoping they’d move on eventually.

The sky was mostly clear, and there was a full moon, so we could see the buffalos’ dark shapes without using our spotlights.  Then around 11:00 PM, there was sudden movement!  At least one big body sprinted across the field for about 30 yards! Read More→

On a Saturday morning in late January, six friends and I headed to the saltwater marsh between Corpus Christi and Port Aransas for a weekend FCS duck hunt.  Five of us hunted a point on an island off Wilson’s Cut and bagged four redheads (ducks).  Our other two hunters, who hunted around 300 yards from us, weren’t so blessed.

After the hunt, Charles Cutchens and I decided to scout the area in my Ford F-150 pickup truck.  We’d heard more than one group of hunters shooting a lot to the north of us and decided to try finding a land route to their area, as paddling our group’s canoe, kayaks, and jon boat to their area would have taken more time than we had.

After driving around a mile, we came to a low area and stopped on the hill above it.  The bottom looked a little soupy, but several tire tracks went through it.  I put my truck into four-wheel drive (4WD) high and hit the gas. Read More→

On a cool Saturday morning in early January, four friends and I proceeded to Giddings, where we met up with Tim Price and our guide – Joey Pohl.  We planned to hunt Flagg Pond west of and connected to Lake Somerville by Nails Creek when the lake is at a normal pool.

We arrived at Joey’s place, got our gear and guns ready, proceeded on a 350-yard hike to his natural blind, and positioned ourselves the best we could.  The seating was unique – a mostly submerged folding chair, a wooden perch, and three milk crate cartons with wood seats screwed to them.  While we got situated, Joey set out his decoys (dekes), including two motorized ducks. Read More→

Last weekend I snuck away for a morning of duck hunting with several friends…a few of which I only met for the first time that morning.

I love to duck hunt.  I love everything about it.  But there is a certain tension in duck hunting that I have experienced in no other pursuit…the wait for legal shooting time.

All hunting season regulations define the legal shooting time.  But for some reason, it doesn’t vex my consciousness when on other hunts like it does when I am hunting ducks. Read More→

In Texas, the vast majority of medium-size game hunters are rifle hunters.  The typical rifle hunter hunts from an elevated or ground box blind, tripod, ladder stand, or climbing stand set up about 100 yards from a feeder.  The steady rest such blinds provide makes bringing home the bacon much easier than shooting from standing, kneeling, sitting, or prone positions outside such stands.  Also, most of the time, hunters that far from their feeders don’t have to be as concerned about wind direction, how they smell, making noise, or what camo they’re wearing as those who hunt up close.

However, a small percentage of hunters prefer to get much closer to their prey.  They also use different tools in the pursuit of their passions.  We call them bowhunters, and they’re a different breed. Read More→

Matthew 14:14-33 is a remarkable recount of two miracles that hadn’t happened before.  (A miracle is an extraordinary unnatural event science can’t explain that Christians believe God did.)  Before the day Matthew recounted, Jesus had done many miracles, including healing many people and casting out demons from people who were possessed.  But God had also done those acts through some Old Testament prophets. Read More→

God said “No” to me twice lately.  The first “No” was when I applied for the position of Quality Assurance Director at Brenham State School (as detailed on the 6/14/03 Word from the President page).  There were many factors that appealed to me.  The position paid 6K – 9K more a year than I am making now, Chris would only have had to work part time or possibly not at all, Chris could have continued her Seminary education at Southwestern Seminary’s branch in Houston, Deanna would have attended a middle school in a much smaller community, we would have lived in a much more conservative community, we would have lived in the country, and we would have said “goodbye” to Austin’s traffic congestion.  I went for two interviews and made it to the top four candidates.

But God said “No”. Read More→