Jess and the Outdoors

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Chasing the Chital: Part 2

If you’ve been following along, then you’ll understand the trepidation I felt when we woke up from our naps and prepared for an afternoon of hiking across the property. (If you haven’t, check out part 1 here!)

Not only were we chasing the most difficult animal to hunt on an enormous property with the potential for rain and storms to chase us all inside for the afternoon, this would also be my first spot-and-stalk hunt ever.

If you’re not familiar with South Texas, it’s very flat with the coastal plains, closely grown mesquite trees, and thick brush that’s equal parts thorny and cactus-y. This makes traditional spot-and-stalk hunting extremely difficult, so most hunters in South Texas will use a blind with a feeder or well-known traffic route to ambush animals during a hunting season. There’s really no vantage point for someone to get high enough to truly “spot” any animals, so it’s just a different way of hunting. As of this post, I’ve been hunting in South Texas for 8 years, so there hasn’t really been an opportunity to try something new.

But on this particular property in the Hill Country, there were hills overlooking clearings and small groves of trees with thinner brush beneath their branches where we could carefully pick our way along deer trails and crouch in the shadows of a tree for cover while we glassed for animals. It was another new experience on top of multiple new experiences in the course of one weekend, and I was just as nervous as I was excited! In the shadow of an overcast sky heavy with rain, we made our way back to the lower pasture.

Saturday Afternoon – Spot and Stalk

Court, my husband, and Shaun, his guide, dropped me and my guide, Kate, off at a new place in the lower pasture. We had spent the last two hunts at the Creek Stand, but this would be a very different strategy. Both of our guides had pooled their knowledge of the area and these particular axis deer and decided that our best bet would be to follow them along one corner of the property where they were known to linger under the trees and in a dry creek bed where they could meander under cover throughout the day.

We got out of the buggie and the field in front of us was full of wildflowers gently arching in the wind. The clouds reflected in the surface of a small pond to our right and I couldn’t help but take in every detail. I love hunting in the fall, but Mother Nature really outdoes herself in the spring.

The little pond we walked by as we started scouting! So beautiful.

Moments before I took this picture, we saw a handful of axis deer through those trees!

I had to save the rest of my observations for later as the hunt was on. We walked carefully towards a line of trees and when we got close, Kate stopped to explain how we would move through the area. She drew a little ariel map on her phone, showing the fencing not far from us and an “L” of trees that ran up the hill to our left, where we could get a better vantage point. She taught me how to walk without my pants making a lot of noise and how to roll through my feet to take quieter steps.

We picked our way carefully and slowly, looking and listening for any sign of anything in the trees around us. The wind swirled around us as we walked, and I noticed both of us sparing glances at the sky, dreading the sight of rain.

Suddenly, she paused and dropped low to the ground; I quickly followed. She pointed ahead silently and just through the trees, I made out white spots on a chestnut body. My heart pounded and just as she was about to instruct me on the next step, the axis deer trotted away; a doe. Behind her, what I thought had been tree branches swayed until another spotted figure trotted after her, branches swaying with his majestic head.

Not branches after all; antlers.

When we were certain they were gone, she turned to me and we both smiled after such a close encounter! She directed me up the hill, on towards our vantage point.

When we got there, she set me up under a tree with a stumpy stick that made for the perfect rifle rest looking down into a clearing with small clumps of trees scattered along the hillside. With my rifle loaded and my sites confirmed in multiple places along the tree line, all we could do was wait.

Silence settled in around us, and I took a moment to simply enjoy the quiet. After months of running around to shows, rehearsals, and working in between (I’m the Camo-Wearing Ballerina, after all!), I enjoyed a moment of stillness for the first time in a long time. There’s just something about sitting still in nature, whether we’re in the woods or on the water, that finally slows my racing thoughts and calms the adrenaline rushing through me. And on this hillside, surrounded by wildflowers blooming after some gentle rains in the middle of a comfortable spring day, I found the peace and quiet I had craved for so long.

Suddenly, we heard the pounding of hooves on the ground. Before either of us could react, two figures burst through the trees at full speed across the hillside and nearly up towards it; a flash of mahogany and rusty brown. They were nearly past us by the time I recognized the white circle around the eyes and the twisting horns curling up from their brows.

Court’s blackbuck had found us again. I stifled a giggle as we watched RB and a younger buck fly by into the brush (he was dubbed RB shortly after our morning hunt, meaning “rat bastard”). Kate took a video and sent it to Shaun while I settled in, certain that the blackbucks’ wild antics would kick up some axis deer any second now.

Kate reached over and tapped my arm, showing me her phone. She whispered almost silently that they had found axis deer, and it took everything in me to react quietly to the picture she showed me. It was the kind of axis I had dreamt of, with velvet and enormous brow guards (brow tines? What do we call it on an axis deer?) as he stared straight at the camera with his ears back.

Seeing Court’s blackbuck everywhere was pretty funny until they saw *this guy*!

Of course they found some axis deer, just like we had found Court’s blackbuck. Before this post, the score was Animals: 1 Hunters: 0. After this handful of minutes, that quickly changed to Animals: 3 Hunters: 0.

We decided to wait for now, hoping that the axis deer we had seen would still poke their heads out of the trees around us. Our plan was quickly dismissed and the guys showed up in the buggie to pick us up. Not only had they come across some axis deer, they had managed to push them up into some trees in the opposite corner of the property, near a feeder and stand. The plan took on a new direction; we would go to the stand and wait for them to come down through the trees towards the feeder, when I would inevitably get a shot at one. Court would watch from the Creek Stand, just a few hundred yards away with a clearer view of most of the hillside, and keep us informed on any activity he could see.

The motto from our India trip slowly trickled into this trip, as well, when it came to hunting for axis deer; “just accept”. So we hopped in the buggie and headed out to this final stand, all of us praying for axis deer and a halt in the storms that darkened the forecast.

Saturday Evening – Back in the Blind

We ended up in an unnamed stand up near the corner where Shaun and Court had seen the axis deer meander up into the trees. The moment we got there, a strange sound echoed through the trees, like the clacking of wood swords. No, not swords… antlers.

We slowly stalked up to the stand and peered behind it, hoping to see two enormous duking it out in the clearing behind us. The bucks were still hidden in the trees, and an entire herd of observant blackbuck does were hanging out in the clearing instead. After a short discussion, we decided there wasn’t a way to get to get to the axis deer without spooking the blackbucks, so we would wait.

Kate and I settled into the stand, going back through our little routine to get set up, and then we settled in. This was at about 2:00pm, and the feeders near our stand weren’t set to go off until around 6:00pm, so we were in for a long sit.

The time didn’t go as slowly as you would expect, though. We checked the weather anxiously in between glassing the hillside, and she would occasionally cluck to a turkey Tom that had wandered out in front of us to keep an eye on the feeders. Court was sitting back in the Creek Stand and hadn’t seen anything just yet from his vantage point. Eventually, even the turkey tired of waiting and wandered into the clearing behind us.

This turkey was a lot further away than you would think in this picture!

The entire time, through the trees, two axis deer bucks apparently decided to scream at each other. If you’ve never heard an axis scream or “roar”, it’s a little unsettling! It sounds like something between an elk bugle and a mountain lion scream, and it echoes through the hills like a ghost on the wind.

Sometimes, they would take a break from their loud discussion, and I found myself drifting off to sleep with my head resting on my hands against the window. Just when I could feel myself slipping into unconsciousness, those axis bucks would scream back at each other and have both of us jumping up to be ready.

The rain managed to hold itself off and as the time neared 6:00pm, it felt as if the entire hillside was holding its breath. Something was going to happen, I could feel it in my bones.

Kate placed a gentle hand on my arm and motioned for me to come closer so I could look out the back window. Sure enough, a thick band of spots could be seen between some trees behind us. And beyond that, thick branches danced back and forth as if the tree was being whipped in the wind…

No, not branches… Antlers.

She told me to prepare to switch places with her if necessary to look out the back of the stand in case the axis deer didn’t come out of the trees; there was a straight lane between the branches where they were moving around as if preparing to leave their shelter for the promise of the feeders.

Just then, both our phones buzzed with a text from Court: he could see axis deer slowly moving out of the trees at the top of the hill. What he didn’t see was the cloud of copper blackbuck does drifting across the hillside to our right, his target blackbuck following faithfully behind them.

Naturally, I had been set up with my rifle facing the feeder, so we decided it was time to be ready for anything that could happen in any direction. I kept watch as she slowly lifted the windows in each direction out of the blind and we watched the flurry of activity continue.

Something large wandered out of the trees to our left, with a stone-colored hide and a careful gleam in its eye as it passed through the clearing; a baby gemsbok. Which meant its’ parents had to be close by…

Sure enough, as I slowly turned my head to the right, there were a handful of enormous gemsbok wandering behind the blackbuck herd along the hillside. And right behind them, peering carefully from the trees, were axis deer.

Animals started pouring out of the trees in every direction. Axis deer, gemsbok, blackbuck, whitetail, wild turkey, and Court frantically texted us about axis deer coming down from the top of the hill. But neither of were looking at our phones because axis bucks have just started pouring out of the trees. This isn’t just a large herd, it’s the large herd with the shooter bucks that they had hoped to find. Everywhere I looked as I got my rifle situated out the window, there were enormous axis deer bucks wandering through the bushes. As quickly as Kate could attempt to point them out without whispering too loudly, I watched new ones emerge.

Through my scope, I searched for one to catch my eye; I never imagined I would have my choice of axis bucks when the time came to take a shot. I imagined the one I’ve always hoped for; 38” with deep cottles, big brows, thick mass, and lingering velvet. Kate whispered behind me when I’m able to distinguish one from others, confirming that it would be a great choice.

The one in the middle of the pack was the one I wanted! I’m also 99% certain that he’s the same one that was in the gallery above!

Three came out together, just beneath a huge tree on the hillside. One steps out in front of the others, thick in body with a chestnut hide beautifully offset by his bright white spots. As he swung his head, his enormous brow tines swung like tree branches and captured my imagination.

“What do you think of that one just beneath the tree?” As she settled her binoculars on him, I noticed a little kicker coming off of one of his antlers and my heart skips a a beat.

Y’all probably don’t know me well enough to know that I love anything unique and a little atypical, even in my animals. I had promised myself that since this would probably be the only axis buck I ever harvested, I would go for a beautiful typical buck rather than the freak nasty that they knew was running around with a tiny nub on one side and an elk-like antler on the other.

But there was something about that little kicker, the asymmetrical cottles (one was big and the other small), with the giant brow tines that just captured my heart.

“He’s a great one,” she whispered, and my heart beat harder in my chest. Already, I was struggling to control my breath as I swung the barrel towards him.

“He’s the one,” I whispered, watching as he was momentarily swarmed by a handful of other deer. This would be the tricky part.

“There’s one behind him that’s a little taller,” she whispered, setting up behind me to help me with watching the other animals around us.

“Nope, that’s the one.”

“When he’s clear of any other animals, take the shot,” she coached, and I focused my entire being on waiting for the precise moment. For several moments, I got lined up on a shot, only for him to move or another deer to move in front of him. No problem, this was something I had handled before, and there was plenty of time to get a shot on him before the animals clustered at the feeder…

Chuff.

Oh, the dreaded “chuff” of a doe. A blackbuck doe to be precise. Kate frantically whispered “don’t move!” One of the blackbuck does had seen us, and with their great eyesight, the other animals typically cued off of the them. The hillside that was swarming with movement just a second ago was suddenly deathly still as every creature froze in its tracks. The doe chuffed one more time before shooting off into the trees as if we were right behind them.

I couldn’t breathe as I willed the axis deer in my scope to drop his head back down and ignore the blackbuck doe. My stomach churned, and I thought I might be sick as the seconds dragged on.

As if the entire hillside exhaled at once, heads slowly dropped back down into the grass until my axis deer finally dropped his as well. Kate sighed with relief behind me, cautioning me to keep an eye out for the turkey so he wouldn’t bust us either.

I waited in stillness as the watchful Tom strut past us, intent on the feeder out to my left. Luckily, my chosen axis deer was in no hurry to do anything but graze, and I waited. He was moving across the clearing in front of the tree, my time was running out before we would have to shift and wait for him to come back out.

Suddenly, the deer behind him stopped. The deer in front of him moved just far enough…

“Now,” Kate whispered.

I narrowed my entire existence to his shoulder and squeezed the trigger.

All at once, the hillside erupted into mass chaos as animals flew back into the cover of the trees. The blackbuck herd stormed off to our right, axis deer scattering up to the tree line, gemsbok running to the left for safety, and the Tom flapping above us.

I did it.

Kate and I immediately started shaking and celebrating! She assured me that not only had I hit it, but it looked like a dead-on shot where we had talked about placing it. My hands shook, my heart pounding through my ribs as I took in the empty tree where my axis deer had just been. This was real. This was happening. After three hunts, facing down my despair and uncertainty, and finally having my moment, we did it!

The next few minutes felt like a blur, like I was living in a dream. We waited with baited breath for Shaun and Court to catch up to us, and I mentally prepared myself to go track my quarry, as both our guides had warned us that axis deer tended to run a little way after getting hit.

The guys pulled up and we ran out of the blind, ready to go find my axis deer. My axis deer, I still couldn’t believe it was real! Court gave me a huge hug and immediately turned me towards the hill and pointed up to a bush. “Look up there,” he said with a big smile. Sure enough, something stuck up out of the grass, something that looked a lot like an antler.

All four of us climbed up the hill as quickly as we could, and there he was, nestled behind a bush in a patch of wildflowers. My axis deer.

To see one of these creatures up close, this ghost of an animal that I had been chasing all weekend… There are still no words, even as I’m writing this. He was even more beautiful and perfect up close, and something pricked behind my eyes as I ran my hand along his marbled velvet antlers. I marveled at the softness and the lines where the velvet was slowly peeling away already; one more week, and my velvet axis would’ve had hard horns.

I knew he was big from the stand, but I marveled at how much bigger was up close. The bases of his antlers were so thick that I couldn’t get my hand all the way around them, and the little extra point I had seen through my scope was a lot bigger than I had realized! And then, there were his ears, maybe half of what he once had with a clean line. Shaun explained that with all of the freezes in Texas lately, they often found axis deer with frost bitten ears, but never quite like this! We decided he had to be old enough to have lived through the big freeze of 2021, when Texas nearly froze solid without power. And along his neck, there were scars in his spotted hide from challenging and fighting rivals.

All of these little details put together this picture of what this axis deer must have been like, and I couldn’t help but marvel at this creature. Even now, when I look at pictures of him, I can’t believe that he’s mine. I never imagined I would get the opportunity to harvest such a perfect, beautiful, challenging, and unique animal when it came time to harvest my axis deer.

Perhaps the wildest thing about our encounter with the axis deer is that *this* deer and the one that the guys got a picture of are *the same deer.* Besides the shape of the antlers, if you look closely at the ears, you’ll be able to see how small they are. It’s unbelievable to me that we found the same deer that prompted us to change tactics in the first place.

I am still so in awe and excited that we had the opportunity to go to this ranch and harvest these incredible animals. It’s an experience that I’ll never forget, and it has completely changed how I feel about high fencing and exotic hunting. These axis deer were challenging, and they made it one of the most difficult hunts that I‘ve ever experienced. But with the right guides, patience, and perseverance, we were able to find them.

It was so special to share this moment with Court, though! He’s the best hunting buddy and mentor, and I did my best to make him proud!

I was happy to have contributed to Kate’s perfect streak; as of writing this post that I know, she is 7 for 7 on one of the toughest animals to harvest. We also got to share a new experience together; this was my first high fence and exotic hunt, and it was her first time guiding a female hunter. It was such a treat to keep learning and growing as a hunter. I’m so blessed that my husband is such an amazing mentor and has made such a strong hunter; like I do in my professional career, I always aim to be a perpetual student as an outdoorswoman. There’s always more to learn, no matter how much experience you may have, and that’s what keep us growing.

As we loaded up my axis deer to take back to the cabin to start processing, Shaun told me that after harvesting such a great axis deer on my first hunt, I should consider retiring from axis deer hunting. I laughed, but agreed, as I could never imagine a more perfect hunt and animal for my first axis deer and exotic hunt.

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Chasing the Chital: Part 1

My heart lept into my throat when we turned off the road and into the side road that would take us to the gate to meet one of our guides for the weekend. All of my hunting experience, my outdoors career, it was all coming down to this one weekend; my first exotic hunt.

This would be the first hunt without my husband and mentor, Court. We were both targeting different species, so we would both go with different guides for the weekend. I had many doubts in my mind about proving myself to my guide as a hunter. Even though I’ve been hunting for almost nine seasons now, I still feel like I have so much to learn and master before I would consider myself a “good” hunter. And I didn’t want to embarrass myself or Court, so there was already a little bit of uncertainty before we even arrived.

The only good thing going for me was that this was a high fence, and I (mistakenly!) knew exactly how all of these hunts go; you go sit in a blind where they know the animals have been going, and then you wait for it come out to the feeder. Not a hard hunt, but still an exciting opportunity to hunt species that you aren’t able to hunt in their home habitats or countries. In fact, as we talked about the hunt on the way up to the ranch, there was a small part of me that hoped it wouldn’t be too easy.

Oh, was I wrong! But we’ll get to that later.

We pulled up and my guide, Kate, was already waiting for us at the gate to let us in. She had taken Court on his fallow deer hunt with Double S Adventures and he had been telling me about her ever since his hunt at this ranch back in December. She was also an adult onset hunter that had built a brand online and was guiding both waterfowl and big game hunts throughout Texas. I was so excited to meet someone who didn’t grow up in hunting and fishing, yet had turned it into such a huge part of their life, someone kind of like me! But way cooler, obviously.

Kate didn’t hesitate when we hopped out of the truck to meet her and gave me a big hug, telling me how excited she was to hunt with me that weekend! It immediately put me at ease and I was excited to learn more from and about her as the weekend progressed. We hopped back in the truck and followed her up to the road to the cabins.

Now, Court had told me that the cabins were “nice” when he was there in December. I think of nice kind of like the cabin at the family ranch; it has great ammenities, it’s rustic, clean, and comfortable. To me, that’s pretty “nice”. This was fancy. The main cabin had a nicer kitchen that one we have at home with professional-grade appliances, a huge granite countertop, and comfortable furniture. There was a giant tv on the wall that I could only imagine became the hub of activity on fall weekends during football and deer season, and it was surrounded by huge whitetail deer mounts on the high ceilings. The entire cabin was probably about the size of the main living of area of our house, and it opened up onto this gorgeous porch with an outdoor kitchen, fireplace, and seating area. From there, the sidewalk extended out to a little firepit that overlooked the entire property down the hillside and into the valley.

I didn’t even get a picture of the kitchen! But here’s the rest of the cabin, it was beautiful!

Not unlike Mufasa in Lion King, Kate told me that “everything the light touches” was part of the property, and the enormous valley surrounded by towering hills was even bigger than I imagined. But what really caught my eye were the three white animals crowding casually around a feeder within view of the cabin. They each sported rust-red markings and gracefully arching horns that trailed backwards and over their necks. Scimitar oryx. That’s not something you see everyday, not even in Texas.

We got settled in and met up with Court’s guide, Shaun, the owner of Double S Adventures. It would just be the four of us this weekend, and we were ready for some rest, relaxation, and a little hunting for two animals that he and I had dreamed about.

Here is the inside of our cabin, complete with matching oryx mounts! It was super comfortable and fancy!

As long as I can remember, Court had talked about hunting a blackbuck. Before we moved to Texas, I remember him telling me about all of the exotic species that you can hunt here and how he had always wanted a blackbuck. They’re small, extremely fast, and sharp sighted animals that are surprisingly tough and smart.

For me, though, it was all about an axis deer. I remember around that same time, he showed me some of the other animals that are common on Texas high fence exotic ranches: scimitar oryx with their enormous horns and bright white coloring; majestic red stags with their tree-like antlers and elk-like dimeanor; fallow deer with their wild range of colors and paddled antlers; and then the axis deer, with it’s graceful antlers, chestnut coat, and those glorious spots. It was the axis deer that captured my imagination. My google search of axis deer turned into a deep dive of creatures with antlers still clad in velvet, deep cottles that looked almost tree-like, and brow guards that rivaled an elk. The deep brown stripe down their back with perfectly paired spots that trickled down their sides even through to adulthood was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen on an animal. I knew that someday, I wanted a chance to get my own axis deer.

A few years ago, Court was able to get an axis deer, too, and it sealed the deal for me! His was cool because it was super symmetrical and actually had some velvet hanging off!

The time had finally come.

We settled down onto the back porch for a little bit while Shaun and Kate gave us the rundown of what it would be like to hunt an axis deer and a blackbuck. Both of them immediately had a target blackbuck in mind for Court; he was a dark, mature buck with long horns that had been running with a good-sized herd of does for awhile now. They said he typically hung out in a specific area and that they would probably have an easier time of finding him. In fact, blackbuck are usually so territorial that Court and Shaun decided to wait to hunt until the morning.

There would be no waiting for Kate and me, though, because of all of the exotics on the ranch, the axis deer were the most difficult. Hearing this, I immediately mentally backpeddaled. This axis deer, one of the most hunted non-natives in Texas, was the hardest one to get? What had I signed myself up for?! Kate assured me that she was 6/6 on getting her hunters on an axis deer, and I prayed to God that I wouldn’t be the one to break her streak! (Which would be a very me thing to do, honestly.)

But she and Shaun had plans, backup plans, and backup plans for those backup plans. Axis deer are typically very scootchy and will vanish if they even think there might be trouble. They loved to hide in the thick trees and would remain there until night had almost completely fallen. In fact, Kate had a client just weeks before get one just moments before it would be too dark to see because that was when they came out. Early light and last light were the axis hours, so we would have to take advantage of every hunt in order to make it happen.

But as we prepared to go out, my stomach sank a little more at the weather forecast; rain and storms throughout the weekend certainly won’t going to help our axis hunt. It was with this uncertainty and trepidation that I grabbed my .270 and bino’s before we hopped into the buggie to go to our stand. It seemed that after finally taking this big opportunity to hunt my dream animal, the odds would be even more heavily stacked against us.

Friday Evening

With Court and Shaun choosing to wait until tomorrow, all four of us decided to head out a little early for a little safari and tour of the upper pasture. This is where the red deer, oryx, aodad, and fallow deer were located, while the blackbuck, axis deer, whitetail, gimsbok, and kudu were in the lower, larger pasture.

We set out in the direction that they had seen the oryx trot away and sure enough, they were waiting for us when we turned the corner. I never felt strongly one way or the other about oryx until I saw them in-person, watching us with their almost alien-looking horns sweeping over their backs. They trotted ahead of us and into the brush like odd-looking horses and I couldn’t help my smile.

My phone didn’t do a great job of capturing them when they spooked, but you can see them running as we passed!

We came around another corner and came upon a small group of fallow deer and an aodad hanging out with some red deer at a feeder. Talk about a wild sight! I had no idea that aodad were so big, especially next to animal just a bit smaller than an elk! The fallow deer scattered, but the rest didn’t really bother going anywhere, merely moving back into the trees until we passed.

After our little walkabout, we turned towards a specific stand that had been the hot axis spot. Kate and I hopped out of the buggie and the guys headed back.

Once we got into the Creek Stand, we settled in and Kate walked me through some reminders in case we got a shot at an axis deer. First, we loaded my rifle and made sure that there was a round in the chamber and the safety was on. Next, she had me get my rest settled and take a look through my scope around both the feeders (corn and protein) to make sure that I had a steady rest and open view of each. Instead of dropping my rifle back down, we left it on the rest and I balanced it on my lap. This would become our routine any time we hunted in a blind for the weekend, and it’s one I hope to keep in my back pocket for deer season.

Once we were settled, we took our binoculars and started to study the valley. From our vantage point, we see up the hill in a specific section and down into a clearing just behind the feeders. The rest was closed in by thick trees, the ideal point of entry for the herds of axis deer. She told me that we would probably see whitetail and then the axis deer if they came out that night.

But there would be many hours before the “axis hour”, so we spent our time talking about anything and everything while we waited. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; you have some interesting conversations in the deer stand while you’re waiting for something to show up. And to be able to spend time with someone so experienced and knowledgeable about hunting, it was so cool to ask questions and learn.

She taught me how to look through one side of the binoculars so you could brace your arm against your body for a steadier hand. She demonstrated how she could call turkeys without using a call, and she told me all about the different species on the ranch. I got to listen to harrowing tales of axis deer hunts and gained a new appreciation for how truly elusive they could be. Honestly, the hours passed pretty quickly.

All the while, we watched the skies. Rain was in the forecast, but it seemed to change drastically with each hour, keeping us all on edge at the prospects of rain being the ultimate end to our axis chase. Though the clouds grew heavy with moisture and lightning flashed in the distance, it never seemed to crawl any closer to the ranch.

Despite the lucky break in the weather, nothing seemed interested in the feeder. Off in the distance, we watched great gimsbok and snow white addax meander across the hill. It was odd creatures that you think about gracing the plains of Africa suddenly wandering around in the hill country. I asked Kate if she ever got used to seeing exotics out here, and she simply said no, and that the day it didn’t excite her was the day she needed to stop.

For the rest of the evening, we only saw a handful of whitetail does that evening, sneaking in through the trees and laying low as they finally meandered to the feeder. And all too quickly, the sun sank low behind the hills. Kate had me check my scope for visibility until the last possible second of light, hoping that I could still see if an axis deer just happened to wander out.

Shaun and Court came to get us when it was truly dark, and we headed back to the cabin for some dinner and downtime. I wasn’t worried yet, appreciating that it didn’t happen so easily and quickly. But deep down, I wondered about this fabled axis deer and the encroaching storms that were set to descend upon us tomorrow, and the seeds of doubt were sewn.

I pushed them away as we settled down to dinner of steaks and potatoes followed up by some Cards Against Humanity. Talk about an icebreaker! And though I hadn’t met them before, I already felt a little cameraderie with these guides and they had immediately made me feel so welcome and comfortable. Even though the familiar pressure of bringing home an animal weighed on the back of my mind, I found myself feeling even more excited. Somehow, things would happen tomorrow.

Saturday Morning

5:30am came too quickly after a late night of hanging out and chatting. But if there’s one thing I make sure to wake up for, it’s hunting. We all piled into the buggie, and this time, Court would finally be going after his blackbuck. I was excited knowing that we’d be coming back from the hunt this morning with an animal! This would be the first exotic hunt that I’d been able to experience with him and I couldn’t wait to celebrate his long awaited blackbuck with him!

Kate and I settled into the Creek Blind again, hoping for some early-rising axis deer while Court and Shaun made their plan to put the stalk on the blackbuck herd. We walked through the same routine as before as we settled in; load the rifle, set up the rest, adjust the site picture, then wait. Then it was just a waiting game.

The sun rose slowly, unable to push out from behind the thick cloud cover. Our eyes jumped from the silent darkness at the feeders to weather forecast as we waited with baited breath for the rain that would surely come at any moment.

As the sun slowly climbed out from behind the hills, we watched a lone blackbuck doe carefully pick her way through the clearing and under the stand. Around this same time, Shaun and Court texted that they had found the blackbuck herd and that they had eyes on the buck. Adrenaline jolted through my veins, and we braced for the gunshot that would surely come any moment.

Any moment now…

Any time now…

Surely…

Nearly twenty minutes later, Kate and I had fallen back into watching for more animals silently. The little blackbuck doe lingered under the feeder, and we thought she might be a yearling doe. We wondered why she was wandering around on her own…

BANG!

I don’t know who jumped more; me, Kate, or the little blackbuck doe at the feeder! The shot was fired much closer than we expected and we were sure that the blackbuck was down. Animals: 0 Hunters: 1

We waited for confirmation, buzzing with excitement. With one animal down, we could have two more helpers on our search for the axis deer and we could finish up our hunts without too much trouble after all!

But it wasn’t the happy confirmation text that we expected; Court texted me back that he thought he had missed. Now, I might sound biased because he’s my husband, but Court is a fantastic shot. He’s confident without being overconfident, and he’s able to make quick and accurate shots at close range. He’s made super accurate long shots, too, and I knew that he would be able to make a shot at any distance on this ranch.

But that’s the thing about hunting; sometimes, you’re put in a position between deciding to take a quicker, less stable shot than a comfortable, slow shot. And in this case, the blackbuck was moving, they saw him with only seconds, and Court decided to take the shot.

Before we could ask if it was a clean miss or not, a small herd of blackbuck does wandered into the clearing across from the stand. I asked Kate if she thought this could be that blackbuck’s herd and sure enough, that buck came trotting through the clearing with them. The little herd meandered through the trees and settled right under the feeder.

A quick look through the binoculars confirmed what we suspected; he was alive and well, his white hide spotless.

Animals: 1 Hunters: 0

Once the little herd wandered away from the feeder, we decided to call it a morning and regroup at the cabin.

Over a plate of breakfast tacos and monster energy drinks, we talked strategy to get back on the blackbuck and find the axis deer that had so far evaded us. The seed of doubt was growing bigger, but our guides were still positive that we would find the axis deer and make it happen before our time was up on Sunday.

This time, we would get out there around noon and start carefully trekking across the property to see if we could find them. Shaun and Kate knew some of their haunts during the day, so we had a couple of ideas of where they might be hiding. All hope was not lost!

At least that’s what I tried to tell myself as we all went back to the cabins for a little nap before the afternoon hunts. I pushed the little bit of worry to the side and tried to ignore the darkening skies outside as I closed my eyes.

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Get Ready With Me: Exotic Hunts Edition!

No, this isn’t your typical “GRWM” you might see on Instagram where you watch (typically) a chick start lathering on her skincare, makeup, and hair products, finishing out with the grand reveal of her “fit” for whatever we’re getting ready for in this video.

Well, unless you count meticulously perusing my camo for the right weight for a weekend in the Texas Hill Country… Then I guess it’s not that different after all!

But anyway, get ready with me for my first exotic hunt EVER on a hunting ranch here in Texas! My husband, Court, has hunted at a few ranches and even taken down some pretty incredible animals, and I’m so excited to share this experience with him as we both chase two species of animals that we’ve wanted to harvest for many years.

Court and his fallow deer! What a beauty!

I’m on the lookout for the biggest, baddest axis deer buck that I can find; ever since I got into hunting and learned about exotics, this was the particular species that captured my imagination. Maybe it was the gracefully sweeping antlers that mixed unusual elements of elk and antelope antlers and horns, respectively. Maybe it was the profusion of spots and dark stripe of color along its back. These animals have always captured my imagination, and after seeing some up close in India, I knew I had to hunt one someday.

A blurry picture of an axis deer in Ranthambore National Park in India

Similarly, Court has talked about harvesting a blackbuck stag ever since he started teaching me about hunting. They’re a smaller species of antelope with a deep brown and white coloring and twisting horns that “v” off the back of its head. We’ve seen them along the high fence ranches in small herds of copper hinds dotted with dark stags, and it makes for a pretty incredible sight!

Beautiful blackbuck picture from Canva lol (ePhotocorp from Getty Images)

With the excitement of hunting dreams being realized, we’ve started preparing for a weekend on the hunting ranch, but there’s still plenty to do… so, in the least Instagram-influencer-way possible, get ready with me!

Why hunt at an exotic ranch in Texas?

Let’s talk about the elephant in the room for a second… why would you pay to hunt something in Texas instead of going to it’s native habitat? I’ve seen and heard a lot of criticism of exotic hunting ranches, and here are my quick reasons why this is an opportunity and not a cheat code for hunting.

For some species, this is the only place you can hunt them. Axis deer, or chital, are native to the subcontinent of India, where all hunting is illegal. If there were no axis deer anywhere else on the planet, then there would be no other way to hunt them. It turns out that you can hunt them in Argentina, Hawaii, and Australia, but I don’t mind saving a little on airfare to hunt them closer to home. The same goes for the blackbuck; they’re also native to the subcontinent of India, and you can only hunt them as exotics in other countries (or states, in Hawaii’s case).

There are no seasons, giving you some more flexibility on when you can hunt. For “exotic” species, there are no seasons, which means that you could technically hunt for them any time of year and harvest as many as you wanted (or could afford). For someone who relies on wild game as a food source, like my husband and me, this is a great opportunity to have access to wild game year-round. This deer season, we didn’t make it out hunting at all just due to life and wild schedules. If it weren’t for exotic ranches, our freezer would be empty! Now, we’ve got fallow deer meat at the ready and are about to add quite a bit more to our supply. (I’m not advocating spending a few thousand dollars to harvest a big trophy animal, but there are often some pretty good deals on does/cows/hinds that will taste better anyway!)

The experience is what you make it. This is your chance to turn your dream hunt into a dream experience from start to finish. It’s a chance to chase the animals of your dreams blind to blind, through spot and stalk tactics, or with a little more assistance if that’s what you need. Talk to your guide and outfitter about what you want out of your hunt, and they’ll do their best to deliver exactly what you want!

Step 1: Book your hunt!

I wouldn’t be writing this post if we hadn’t already done that! Court kept in touch with the guide and outfitters that he with for his fallow deer back in December, so we reached out to them to get our hunt set up. Many outfitters will have multiple ranches where they hunt, so they will find the location that best matches the type of animals that you want to hunt. In this case, there were a couple of locations that had both “shooter” axis deer and blackbucks. We paid our deposit, chose a weekend based on the availability of the ranch and our schedules, and we’ll head out to the ranch on a Friday for a full weekend of hunting.

Step 2: Decide what kind of firearm or bow you want to use.

Do you want to hunt with a bow or firearm? If you decide to hunt with a bow, you should let your guide and outfitter know up front, and make sure that you get in some good practice with it before the weekend, just like you would when it’s time to hunt a native animal in season.

If you plan on using a firearm, consider the size of your animal and choose a firearm that (1) has enough power to take it down, (2) can shoot as far as you feel comfortable shooting, and (3) is something you feel comfortable and confident handling. In general, you want to hunt with a rifle that you feel comfortable with, and it’s going to exponentially increase the odds of a well-placed shot!

Axis deer are only a little larger than a whitetail, and we’ll likely be hunting out of blinds very similar to how we hunt during deer season, so I know that my .270 will have enough power and accuracy at a distance to give me the best odds of a successful shot! I also love my .270 and it’s the rifle that I feel the most comfortable using.

These are the only two rifles I’ve ever really hunted with, a Remington 700 .243 and .270. I LOVE my .270 so much!

Bonus points if you make it out to the range before your hunting trip for a little extra practice!

Step 3: Check the weather and pack accordingly!

Once you know where you’re hunting, check the weather! Think about temperature and precipitation, and be sure to be prepared.

After a quick glance at the weather, it looks like it’s going to be potentially rainy and muggy (Welcome to South Texas!), so I think I’m going to bring a few different options, including my lighter weight camo and some rain gear, just in case.

Step 4: Create your packing list

I love lists, and they’re essential for me when I’m trying to pack! I haven’t finished my packing list yet for this particular trip, but I already know that it’s going to include far more than some camo and my rifle… I also like to make lists and start packing a little early in case I need to go buy something before we head out there (you definitely want to double check your ammo at the very least!).

Here are a few things that I’m also planning on bringing that maybe aren’t as obvious for a hunting trip:

My Hey Dude’s for around the cabin (especially if it rains!)
Rain gear for running around less camouflaged
A change of clothes or two for around the cabin
My DSLR camera and a charger for “shooting” other animals if I find my axis early
My kindle, for when I’m too excited to sleep

Step 5: Happy hunting!

Once you’re all packed, it’s time to head out to meet up with your guide and the outfitter at the ranch. Be sure to communicate with your guide, stay positive, and overall, enjoy! This is such a unique experience to see these animals in the United States, animals that many people will never get to see in their lifetime. Stay focused on what you want, enjoy some time away, and do your best!

As I’ve scrolled through pictures of different axis deer online and chatted excitedly with my guide, I can’t help but wonder what it will be like to see an axis deer in the flesh in this context. Seeing them in India during our safari was such an incredible experience; trying to imagine them as the equivalent to our whitetail or mule deer in our North American ecosystems was also a little wild! I enjoyed watching them during their rut, with big bucks fighting and does trotting away from their admirers.

The next time I see an axis deer in-person, it will be for a completely different reason. I will no longer be just an observer to their life, a tourist in their home not unlike a tourist in the streets of strange city taking pictures as fast as their camera will allow. The stakes will be much higher this time, and I know I’ll be ready.

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Half a World Away: the Sights and Tastes of Saigon

Here in the United States, there are only a few things that can make me excited to get out of bed before the sun rises: hunting and fishing. Let’s be honest.

Every morning in Vietnam, I woke before the sun was fully up, ready to explore something new. We didn’t waste any time getting down to breakfast for beef pho, a pan au chocolat, and some dragonfruit, either as juice or a fruit (usually both). We would watch people doing tai chi and badminton in the park before setting out to walk the streets of Saigon.

We wandered a little further than the first day, enjoying the cooler temperatures in the morning before the sun started beating down on the city. We found a bookstore where I managed to snag a Harry Potter book in Vietnamese for my collection. From there, we found other little shops to wander through full of souvenirs, knock off designer stuff, and some very unusual foods available for purchase. All part of the experience!

We spent some time in what we had come to call “our park”, the one that we watched through the window across the street from the hotel. Kids from one of the schools ran and played down the sidewalks, doing their P.E. credits outside in the fresh air. Even now, as I’m writing this, I remember that third morning in that park, and I can almost take myself back there in those moments, underneath the sprawling trees with a soft breeze tickling my cheek. For some reason, it’s these quiet moments that seem to linger with me now that we’re back home.

After dropping off our haul from the market, we ran over to the neighboring Cantonese restaurant for a quick lunch that was delicious. Ridiculously delicious.

Day 3: Saigon Jeep Tour

This time when we prepared to start our tour, American military jeeps waited for us! Talk about riding in style; they were suprisingly comfortable, too!

Our first stop was the official post office; with its sweeping French architecture that reminded us more of a train station, it was quite the experience getting to send a postcard from Ho Chi Minh City!

As we made our way back to our jeeps, our guide casually pointed out to us an oddly familiar apartment building roof that turned out to be the exact rooftop of the famous huey helicopter photo from the fall of Saigon!

The picture on the left is from a different angle from the original, but you can see it! It’s an apartment building now.

After the post office, we took a quick ride over to the War Remnants Museum. Though we’d already been there once, it was interesting to revisit some of the images and delve a little deeper into some exhibits that maybe we hadn’t taken as much time to peruse before.

From the museum, we went to one of the more famous pagodas in Saigon, a Buddhist place of worship. It was hard to believe we were still in the city with so many colorful flowers and such stillness. You don’t have to be a Buddhist to appreciate the sense of peace there. I was really taken by these buildings that we saw throughout the city because they’re so different than anything we see in the States. They were beautiful!

we made a little stop at the Independence Palace, where the government of South Vietnam was run during the war. Maybe not surprisngly, it has a little bit of a White House look, and it was interesting to hear about the multiple presidents and their ever shortening terms in office from our tour guide.

As one of our last stops, we got to see the Ho Chi Minh City Opera House, a beautiful building that also looked like it could’ve been copied and pasted out of France. We also happened to drive up as someone clearly famous or fabulous (probably both) was taking photos for a campaign. I’m still not sure who this person is, but if any of you know, I’d love to find out! I wasn’t brave enough to ask for a photo with them, and it’s probably the only thing I regret about our time in Vietnam.

Around the corner, we came to City Hall, also decked out in a French manner with beautiful architecture. The square wouldn’t be complete without a statue of Mr. Ho Chi Minh gazing across the way into a beautiful Tet installment that we would enjoy the next morning.

Overall, our little venture in the jeeps was a really cool and surprisingly comfortable way to get around Saigon and learn a little bit more about the city and its history! It was also the inspiration for our exploration plans the next morning before our food tour!

Day 4: Saigon Food Tour

To start our next day, we backtracked a little bit through some of the areas from jeep tour and took our time exploring some of the area around City Hall. We explored the Tet art installment, took a stroll back around the infamous apartment building and the various hotels where U.S. intelligence, military personnel, and journalists were stationed during the war. Here are a bunch of pictures from our little exploration, enjoy!

Another view of that apartment building, this time with signs!

Later in the afternoon, we officially started our food tour! And like any good food tour, a lot of the places we encountered were little back-alley hidden gems that you really had to know about if you were going to find them. Our first stop was for some chicken pho, naturally, though this pho was a little less Western than our other pho experiences… The chicken pho I’d had at the hotel was made with chicken breast and thigh meat, usually with the skin on. As if that weren’t a little unusual for me, at this particular restaurant, they included other cuts of meat that are less popular in the West, like liver, gizzard, heart… and some other cuts that we couldn’t really figure out what they were! Nothing wrong with a little adventure!

Next up, we headed out to a little coffee shop for an authentic taste of Vietnamese coffee. We were given the option of either an egg coffee or a customized coffee blend. Having already experienced some coffee that was a little aggressive for me, I went with a custom blend. This was the place where I learned about being “coffee drunk”, which basically means you’ve drank too much coffee and it can actually make you feel funny! The more you know, I guess! I got to taste an egg coffee and my coffee world was shaken. I am still trying many failed recipes to try to make my own egg coffee, so maybe someday!

Egg coffee! They have a yoke foam on top that’s sweet to counteract the bitter coffee flavor!

They roasted the beans in front of us using a special rice wine that they make specifically for roasting coffee

Interesting fact about the coffee I drank; it had the equivalent of 5 shots of espresso worth of caffeine. As a 1 shot kind of girl, I was a little hesitant, and even more so when our guide told us about one of his guests that drank too much in one sitting and started hallucinating! So if you go to Vietnam, handle that coffee with care; they do NOT mess around with caffeine! This is why I drank mine extremely slowly…

After some coffee to put some pep in our step, we headed out to what was considered “Chinatown” of Saigon. This area had a higher concentration of Chinese people and many of the shops and restaurants in that area had a stronger Chinese influence.

After walking down some unusual side streets, we rounded a corner to a little sandwich stand for ban mai. This is a Vietnamese sandwich made from some kind of pate, pickled vegetables, and a sauce placed in a crispy French baguette. I was a little unsure about eating some with “mystery sausage” and “mystery pate” listed as ingredients, but when in Vietnam, right? This little sandwich turned out to be one of my FAVORITE things we ate on our entire trip!

They didn’t sound nearly as appetizing as they looked! Soooo good.

This particular little ban mai stand was really famous in Saigon and had been a staple for people since 1968. If you know much about the Vietnam War (even before the U.S. got involved), then you’ll know that this stand opened during the war and was still thriving! Like selling 7,000 ban mai per day thriving. Our guide told us that this particular stand was also special because of their baguettes; they were so good that other stands would buy bread from them for their ban mai, too, though it would never be as good as getting from the source.

There was one more stop before dessert for shrimp cakes! This was another restaurant that was extremely well known in the area for their food; if I remember correctly, it was Michelin Selected (not the same as getting a star, but certified and recommended by the same organization). The shrimp cakes were a kind of crepe (in this case, made with turmeric for flavoring and an attractive color) with shrimp and pork cooked in. We wrapped them up with lettuce, a touch of mint, and a wasabi leaf for flavor before dipping in some sweet fish sauce. The combination of flavors and textures is hard to describe beyond diverse and delicious! We also ate some amazing little egg rolls for an appetizer that’s making my mouth water as I’m typing up this blog post. This might have been my favorite tour of all in Saigon!

Finally, we headed down another unusual little side street with little shops and stands for dessert; coconut icecream. As someone who loves both coconut and icecream, I was super excited. I didn’t expect it to be served with sticky rice, corn (like the stuff you eat with dinner, not even a particularly sweet corn!), and some crunchy toasted coconut on top. Oh, in a coconut shell with a warm herbal tea. These ingredients should NOT go together, but somehow, when they you get a little hint of each thing, they come together for a surprisingly refreshing and sweet dessert! It brought to mind a saying we coined during our time in India: “just accept”. Well, I accepted pretty quickly that somehow, coconut icecream goes great with sticky rice and corn.

With full bellies and a full week of exploring complete, we headed back to the hotel for a little bit of rest. The next day, we would attend an incredible grand opening ceremony complete with lion dancers, fan dancers, and singers, joyful celebration, and even some amazing karaoke to cap off the day.

It was hard to believe that four days had already passed in Vietnam. I wasn’t really sure what to expect when we first started our voyage literally halfway around the world. What would they think about a bunch of Americans being there after the war? Having never been to a Communist country before, would it be scary? Would the people be friendly? Would it be safe?

What I found was a place that I was desperate to get back to the moment we started packing to head to the airport. This beautiful city with its pockets of greenery scattered across every street, with colorful flowers and clean sidewalks, had captured my heart. The people with their kindness, friendliness, and curiosity about us had me anxious to meet more of them and hear more about their stories. The food… I don’t need to say anything else about how much I loved the food!

The most beautiful thing about Saigon was the hope and excitement in the eyes of the people we met. Hope that their country would continue growing and becoming a better place to live, as well as excitement that visitors were coming more often and leaving with a beautiful impression of their Vietnam. Despite the horrors of the past, the wounds on the land and a civilization, these people were hopeful that they could move forward into a brighter and better future. And that is the impression I carry with me now, a month later, as I write this post and think about the people we met. I hope that their lives continue to get better and that their country continues to grow into a prosperous place where they can live happily. Hope is a beautiful thing.

My heart lurched a little as the plane took off the tarmac, lifting us away from a city and a people that had completely captured my imagination. What I didn’t know was that the best was yet to come in our final destination before heading back to the States: Hue.

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Half a World Away: Vietnam, Saigon and the Mekong Delta

Vietnam

This word, this name evokes so many different emotions and feelings for most people in the United States. Perhaps some feelings of sadness, maybe some feelings of curiosity depending on your family’s history.

As we stepped off the plane in Saigon after 20 hours in the air, I found myself overwhelmed by curiosity and a sense of adventure. This was only my second trip across any ocean, and my first in East/Southeast Asia. Perhaps that’s the best way to experience something new; with absolutely no expectations.

My husband, Court, had been invited for a little bit of a work-cation. We had the incredible honor of attending a grand opening for a company that he has worked closely with for several years, as well as some extra time before and after the celebratory events for a little sightseeing and relaxation.

Day 1: Saigon

After getting settled into our hotel, we immediately hit the ground for some sightseeing and food. In India, if we left the hotel, we always took a car; there were a lot of people and vehicles out on the roads and sidewalks, so a ride just seemed safer than trying to walk. In Vietnam, though, we stepped out into the hot afternoon sun on the sidewalks just recently swept and mopped clean by shopowners. We found shade underneath countless trees stretching up towards the tops of buildings; I’ve never seen so much green in such a large city. Red flags and leftover decorations from Tet colored every block as we passed for a surprisingly scenic walk in the midst of a large city. I knew immediately that Vietnam was going to be a special experience.

The view from our hotel room! So beautiful!

We started at the War Remnants Museum, a museum dedicated to the entirety of the Vietnam war from the very beginning, following World War II, all the way past America pulling out of the country and the North triumphing over the South. Even knowing that we were the “losing side”, I wasn’t totally prepared to be portrayed as the “bad guys” in a museum… I was both intrigued and maybe a little offended. I guess you have to have some expectations when you walk into a Communist country’s war museum, right?

Despite the propoganda, I was intrigued to see their side of the story and gain the opportunity to better understand a very complicated and tragic conflict.

As we settled in for a late lunch/early dinner, we ended up with some local friends at a Chinese restaurant of all things. I didn’t mind some amazing noodles, bao, and a little dragonfruit cocktail to finish off a busy afternoon! Court and I managed to stay up until about 8:00PM, and then it was lights out. Literally.

Day 2: Cu Chi Tunnels

Refreshed from literally 10 hours of sleep after a long travel day, we got up early for some breakfast at the hotel restaurant. The one thing I didn’t expect to see on the hotel buffet line was pho for breakfast, and it was absolutely the first thing I ate. Followed quickly by one of the best little French croissants I’ve ever eaten! Between the influx of Chinese cultural/culinary influence and amazing French pastries, Vietnam was absolutely blowing my mind in less than 24 hours.

The park across from our hotel was full of people exercising before work and enjoying some green space. This was one of many parks that we would see throughout our time in Saigon and one of the things I immediately loved about the city in general; all the green spaces.

Once we finished breakfast, we hit the streets again for some sightseeing before we met up for a full day of tours!

On our way out, we stopped by a special facility called the Handicapped Handicrafts. This organization hires people physically affected by Agent Orange; they get hired to create beautiful traditional Vietnamese art and learn one very specific step in the process of creating these pieces. These lacquer paintings are a mix of paint, eggshell, and shell inlay to create traditional designs. At this facility, we had the chance to watch some people as they worked on designs and it was truly incredible! The precision and care that goes into each piece of art was amazing. (They get a lot of copycat companies, so we weren’t allowed to take pictures inside, but I’ll share some pictures of the finished art that we bought!)

This artist was sawing out shapes by hand out of shell!

Onward to the Cu Chi Tunnels. These tunnels were used by the Viet Cong during the war to wage guerilla warfare on the Americans and South Vietnamese. The VC created tons of traps and a network of tunnels that allowed them to ambush their enemies and then quickly disappear. We walked past enormous B-52 Bomber craters and rock formations that were actually vents so that air could reach the tunnels while following our guid through the area. After watching some enthusiastic demonstrations of how the traps worked, our guide took us through a small tunnel for about 40 meters.

Okay, not “us”; me and one of our friends decided to wait on the other side for the rest of our group, and I don’t regret it! I took one look at the tunnel as someone around my height got on their hands and knees to crawl in and immediately said “nope”! Out loud. In front of everybody.

Even for people who are smaller in stature, I cannot imagine spending any significant amount of time down there! It was wild, y’all.

Court going into the tunnels; that’s as far as I dared to go!

Oh yeah, and we got to shoot 10 rounds from a full auto M-60. That was even more fun than it looks!

That was one of the coolest things I’ve ever done!

Day 2: Mekong Delta

After the Cu Chi Tunnels, we headed towards the coast to explore the Mekong Delta. This was another area of contentious fighting near Saigon, but this particular tour was purely about the natural beauty of the area. We crossed the Mekong River in a simple wooden boat passing barges laden with goods and floating fish farms. The chocolatey brown water was surprisingly calm, despite being a hundred feet deep and constantly churned by the boat traffic.

When we made it to the opposite shore, we found ourselves in a coconut candy shop! We watched them turn green coconuts into taffy-like candy in a variety of flavors that make for a pretty common treat in Vietnam. Oh, and they sold snake wine. Or if you prefer your liquors with tiny alligators or scorpions, they had those too. We brought home an absurd amount of candy but decided to pass on the wine…

It took this guy under a minute to prep this coconut to make candy!

We took another ride in a smaller boat along a smaller tributary to our lunch spot.

Lunch was a mix of elephant fish, Mekong prawns, chicken, sticky rice, and steamed vegetables. Before leaving, Court’s grandfather had told us about the Mekong prawns that he remembered eating while he was stationed in Vietnam; let me tell you, those are probably some of BEST shrimp-like critters I’ve ever eaten. I can’t even completely explain what made them so amazing; they were so fresh, with a more subtle flavor that was almost sweet compared to the shrimp that we’re used to in the States. They were even more delicious than they looked!

After our lunch, we helped feed some little caymans their lunch. Don’t worry; these were all too big to be the ones in the gator wine!

From lunch, we hopped onto yet a smaller boat and a smaller tributary, complete with the traditional straw hats to keep the sun off our necks and ears. Our boats were small enough that they required a captain to simply paddle us down the tributary and back.

Depending on your feelings about Vietnam and our presence there 50 years ago, this particular boat ride invoked some very different emotions. When we got back on the bus awhile later, Court confided that it was an eerie ride through the jungle, imagining what it would have been like as a soldier to quietly paddle through the thick foliage with only the silent trees to witness. What was concealed behind the thick leaves and water coconuts? Were there other soldiers there? Why was a place so full of life suddenly so quiet?

I had a very different feeling as we floating through dappled sunlight warming my skin and the gentle nudge of the river. The silence felt like a warm blanket draped around my shoulders, the heavy sigh of peace gently tugging at branches over our heads. For the first time in a few months, my mind felt quiet. It wasn’t so different from the same sense of peace that I find under the South Texas sun on our home waters in the Laguna Madre. Half a world away, I felt something that reminded me of home.

It amazed me that in a place with a people and culture so wildly different from my own, I found something startlingly familiar.

We finished the day with one more stop for some native fruits and local performers singing traditional Vietnamese songs. The tension in my shoulders was finally leaving with every bite of heavenly dragonfruit, and I couldn’t help but smile with each song.

As we left the river, I found my first real sense of peace since the start of our trip to Vietnam. I had left home in the middle of excitingly hectic projects and worked a little too hard trying not to think of them as we flew across the world. All it took was a little quality time with nature to shut out the noise.

Someting I noticed immediately about the Vietnamese was their connection to nature. On the Mekong Delta, their lives were still intwined with the gentle river and they took so much pride in sharing the fruits of the land with visitors. Even in bustling Saigon, our tour guide commented that the green spaces and trees were especially important to residents, that the government meticulously maintained the greenery to keep it pristine within the city.

As we walked below the stretching branches of mangroves that evening with city lights filtering through the leaves, I had a feeling that the people and land of Vietnam would build a special place in my heart after this trip.

We finished the night at Landmark 81, the tallest building in Saigon!

Next week, I’ll share our jeep tour and food adventures on days 3 & 4! Every day got just a little bit better

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Love and the Outdoors

We’re just weeks away from Valentine’s Day, and if you’re like me, sometimes you look up and think, “what am I going to get my honey for Valentine’s Day this year?!”

Okay, I don’t actually call him “my honey”, but you get the point…

Well, if you’re looking some ideas for the outdoorsy lady in your life, then you’ve come to the right place!

Here are a few quick ideas for your outdoorswoman for Valentine’s Day!

DSG Outerwear Gear

Why not treat her to some new gear? I love working with DSG Outerwear because not only do they create utilitarian gear designed for women by women, but they’re also very size inclusive! The outdoorswoman and ballerina in me appreciate the opportunity to wear practical clothing that also fits my body shape (not to mention, they’re updated styles are so flattering!)

For my friends up north, check out their new fishing sweater that’s so warm and comfortable! I loved it so much that I had to order one for myself…

For my southern friends, they have so many lightweight options like this sun shirt for comfort and protection under the sun.

Check them out here!

Pretty Hunter Jewelry

If your lady has a bit of tough or wild side, check out some of the jewelry at Pretty Hunter for something pretty and a little edgy at the same time.

They have all kinds of jewelry pieces from necklaces, earrings, rings, bracelets, belt buckles, and even some really cool apparel! My personal favorites are these French Hook earrings; I wear them pretty much everywhere! They’re elegant at a glance, but I love that they’re made from 9mm bullets, fitting since all of my favorite pistols are 9mm.

Check out all of their lines and apparel here! They’re having a Semi-Annual Sale right now!

An Outdoorsy Read

If your lady likes to read, check out some of these outdoors books! Between my husband and I, we’ve read all of them and really enjoyed them.

“Girl Hunter” Georgia Pellegrini: get it here
“The Scavenger’s Guide to Haute Cuisine” Steven Rinella: get it here
“Fox and I” by Catherine Raven: get it here
“American Serengeti” by Dan Flores: get it here
“An Entirely Synthetic Fish” Anders Halverson: get it here
“The Hungry Ocean” Linda Greenlaw: get it here
“Alaska’s Wolf Man” Jim Readen: get it here

Take Her Out(doors)

So this one admittedly isn’t “easy”, but to me, it’s the ultimate valentine’s gift. If you can, plan a little outdoors excursion just the two of you! Go fishing, hunting, hiking, whatever you enjoy doing together outdoors.

When you take your hunting or fishing lady on an excursion, you’re not just gifting her with a fun experience; you’re also gifting her your time and presence! At the end of the day, that’s my favorite part of Valentine’s Day; making time to spend together.

This was actually from our summer Alaska trip, but you get the picture; spend some quality time together this Valentine’s Day!

What are your Valentine’s plans this year?

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Back to the Woods: Axis Edition

While a lot of things in the latter half of 2023 didn’t go as planned, it did prompt me to do one thing in 2024; schedule an axis deer hunt.

Ever since we moved down to South Texas, my imagination has been captured by axis deer. Native to India, they’re about the same size as North America’s whitetail deer, but with lifelong spots on their coats and otherworldly antlers that curve up almost like an elk. My husband has had a smaller axis deer buck skin and skull cap for several years now, and he’s (nicely) pushed me to go out and get my own!

Seeing them in India was an even more incredible experience! We watched them in the heat of their rut over there; the bucks were chasing does, fighting with each other, and otherwise acting like our whitetail tend to during the late fall and early winter months.

Luckily, in Texas, there are plenty of opportunities to hunt year-round! Texas is very unique in the hunting community because it is home to some of the largest exotic ranches with a wide ranch of species available to hunt! Axis deer, nilgai, fallow deer, red stag, black buck, oryx, buffalo, enormous wild boars, you name it; you can probably hunt it in Texas! And because they’re all considered exotics, you can hunt them anytime during the year.

Even after my husband harvested his ridiculously cool fallow deer at the end of the year, we both agreed that there was room for quite a bit more wild game in the freezer… So why not fill it with something else exotic?

He never shared it, so I will! I mean LOOK AT THAT FALLOW DEER!!

And y’all, I’ve never had venison like axis.

This isn’t a post to brag about my hunting plans this year, or what we get to do in Texas with hunting (there are plenty of drawbacks, trust me), but it’s a chance for someone to hold me accountable. To help me make the time to get out there and do this.

I don’t know what it is for so many people, but we’re great at making excuses to avoid doing things we want to do. Maybe it’s not the perfect time, or maybe we’d like to save up just a little more, or maybe we want to practice just a little bit more. Maybe we haven’t found the perfect opportunity, place, or idea.

We make so many excuses. What were mine?

I had the financial ability to hunt. There were plenty of opportunities nearby that wouldn’t make travel difficult. I have a lot of experience handling my .270, so my skills were up to par with what I would be doing.

I think that we just don’t make the time.

I’m talking to myself in this statement, too, because I’m horribly guilty of not making time for the things that I should. Like writing on my blog again… And sometimes, yes, you just need a break or some rest. But there won’t always be a perfect moment or time to do everything in our lives; sometimes, you have to make things happen and be grateful for what you get!

All of this to say, I’m holding myself accountable this year for a lot of things, including making time for the things I love to do; writing in my blog, reading books, fishing, exercising, and yes, hunting an axis deer.

I’ll update y’all with more details as I officially make plans; I’m waiting on my left knee to heal up from a dance injury, and then I’m going to be back out there as soon as I can!

South Texas axis deer, I’m ready for you!

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Easy Roast Venison Shoulder

This is one of my favorite recipes! It takes one of the toughest parts of the animal and turns it into a delightfully tender roast that will literally fall off the bone.

Like, literally fall off the bone.

Did I mention it’s easy? I like to throw this in the crockpot around lunchtime so I can go about my day without worrying about a hot oven or grill. It makes for an easy and healthy weekday meal!

We also like to use this method for ham roasts and neck roasts because it tastes so good!

Try it out!

Ingredients:

1 venison shoulder (or any other cut that you would like to roast!)
1/2 white onion
2-3 slices of bacon (thick cut is best!)
minced garlic (to taste)
beef stock (or venison if you have it!)
celery, carrots, potatoes, or any other vegetables you would like to toss in with the roast
salt and pepper

Method:

1. Dice white onion and bacon strips; add with minced garlic to an oiled pan on the stove and saute until the onions are translucent. When they’re done, add to the bottom of your crockpot.

2. Salt and pepper your roast liberally before browning it in the pan. You can add a little olive oil if needed to finish browning. This can take up to 10 minutes, so take your time and make sure that it’s well-seared before moving to the crockpot.

3. Pour broth over the shoulder roast so that it’s completely covered; now let it sit in the crockpot on high for 6 hours.

4. During the last hour, toss in your vegetables so they can cook slowly with the roast.

5. After the 6 hours, serve over white rice and a gravy if you’d like! (We like a simple brown or mushroom gravy to go with ours.)

This is a recipe that’s so simple and healthy, it makes for a great weekday meal! This is also a great way to use those tougher cuts of meat that usually wind up in the grind pile for something a little different and equally delicious.

Will you try this one?

Keep an eye out on my instagram (@jess_and_the_outdoors) to vote for the next recipe you’d like to see on my blog!

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Jess AND the Outdoors

If you’re still here after this year, I want to say thank you. You’re one of the real ones who stuck around even when I didn’t, and I appreciate you!

2023 was one of those years where life happened, and life happened hard. Court and I got to travel on a whirlwind adventure literally around the world in February. I got to perform a principal role in the local ballet company’s production of Cinderella in April. We watched my sister get married and start a new chapter of her life in May. We even made it to Alaska for an incredible adventure in July.

But life happens.

In June, the water in the Laguna Madre went down to winter tides while the temperature went up to wild highs. The fish vanished and every trip down the laguna became just a little more demoralizing for me and Court. We watched weather reports, asked guide friends about the fishing, and nothing changed.

We went from fishing at least once every weekend in the summer to fishing maybe three times the entire summer. With prostaffer spots on the line, I started to panic; I have no content because nature is making it almost impossible for me to actually go fishing. I have no content, and I’m going to lose everything I’ve worked for.

With hunting season around the corner after we returned from our trip to Alaska, I started to feel more hopeful. We always had at least a couple of trips planned for hunting season, and I knew I could stretch out some content that I was able to generate from there.

But friends, life happens.

Nutcracker season started up with a promising balance for our hunting plans. The first weekend of rehearsals, we spent time away with family, so I wasn’t worried about missing rehearsals. The second weekend, I got knocked down with a nasty infection, so I missed again. But I still figured I could squeeze in one hunting weekend, and maybe I wouldn’t let my castmates down.

But. Life. Happens.

On November 1st, my grandfather passed away. My family came together in Eastern Oklahoma about two weeks before Thanksgiving to say goodbye and to be together for a few days. Being back at my grandparents’ farm for the first time since 2019, in the quiet of the Oklahoma countryside, it brought back a lot of memories.

Of fishing on the pond and squealing because I didn’t want to touch a fish. Of picking okra and asparagus from the garden to make for dinner that night with Grandma. Of talking about God with Grandpa. Of picking wildflowers over spring break and making a bouquet with my sister. Of sitting on their front porch with a book, feeling the breeze stir through the eaves while humming birds hovered around the feeder.

It was a simpler time, where we lived with nature because that was life, not because we had to make content for social media.

These memories lingered with me when we returned home and entered the final stretch of the Nutcracker, whitetail, and holiday season. It wasn’t easy to put deer hunting aside, but my castmates were depending on me at the ballet, and I was anxious to enjoy another show on stage after so many years of being denied the chance.

It wasn’t until I collapsed onto the couch on December 17th after completing my final Nutcracker show of 2023, that I finally admitted to myself that I didn’t know what to do anymore. I felt broken. My body was battered and hurting after battling injuries all fall. My mind raced for ideas on what I could possibly post when I hadn’t been outdoors in months. Hunting and fishing had become an important part of our lives; it sustained us physically and spiritually in so many ways. Dance had finally come back into my life, and I was going to continue dancing on borrowed time for as long as my body would allow.

My exhaustion mutated into anger. I am not a niche!!!!!

And that’s when it hit me; I’m not a niche. I’m not just an outdoorswoman. I’m not just a ballet dancer. I’m not just a blogger. I’m not just a reader. I’m not just a gym rat. I’m not just a helicopter dog mom. I’m not just a wife, sister, daughter, teacher, choreographer, marketer, etc.

I am all of those things.

And I’m tired of trying to fit all of those things into one, simple, tidy category that I can check off on Instagram’s “what kind of profile are you?” section.

So I won’t anymore.

The outdoors is a huge part of my life; we subsist off of the things we catch and harvest, and I want to do more! I live in a city, so I’m not able to hunt every single day during deer season, and that’s the way it is. I have a small backyard and live in a Coastal Plain climate for goodness sake; gardening probably isn’t going to be a thing for me. I’m an urban outdoorswoman that enjoys the fruits of her harvest in the food that she eats to fuel her body and provide for her family.

If you’re still here, this is basically my way of saying that I’m rebranding. I’m not Jess in the Outdoors anymore.

I am Jess and the Outdoors, living my life with as much nature as I can fit within my lifestyle in the city pursuing all of the things I love.

There’s going to be more cooking, more unusual ways of harvesting wild game (stay tuned, there’s some exotic hunting in the future this year!), attempts at growing and using something that actually thrives in South Texas (cacti, I guess?), some failed attemps at gardening (I have plans, y’all!), some annecdotes about being a buff ballerina, and lots of adventures centered around the life of an urban outdoorswoman.

For the first time in a long time, I’m feeling really excited and positive about sharing about my journey here and on social media. It won’t be perfect, and it’ll probably be messy at times, but I’m okay with it. If I’ve learned anything this year, it’s that life happens, and sometimes it happens hard. But it’s not about how hard you get knocked down; it’s about getting back up.

So look out, y’all; the Camo-Wearing Ballerina is back.

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Archery Season… 2024?

Taking a short break from my Alaska posts (again, I know!) because I’ve been a little under the weather the last week or so, and my brain isn’t forming coherent thoughts about my amazing time there.

As I’ve been scrolling instagram and attempting to breathe through my nose again, I’ve enjoyed seeing the incredible harvests of deer hunters all over North America. Bow season is hot, and it always marks the excitement of the beginning of deer hunting.

Admittedly, there’s always a small part of me that feels a little down during bow season, too. Ever since I got into hunting, I had dreams of stalking through the woods with my compound bow, silently following a stealthy giant and hoping to make it close enough for a good shot.

I wanted to bow hunt so bad, that I got a compound bow that I LOVE for Christmas that year. Diamond Archery Infinite Edge from 2015! She’s so beautiful, the perfect fit for my short arms and small self. I love the resistance of drawing back the string, timing my release perfectly as I aim carefully for the bull’s eye. The combination of laser focus through my target and physical prowess to fully draw the bow is everything I’ve ever wanted from hunting.

jessica holding up her compound bow with her back to the camera — This was the first time I ever shot my bow! I was still in my work uniform!

But time and space have gotten in my way, and so I’ve never taken her out during bow season. At the ten yards that I can shoot in my back yard, I’m pretty deadly to my bow target. But that’s just it; I can’t expect to make a 10-yard shot on a deer with only a 35 pound draw weight (I think that’s what it is, it’s been so long that I don’t even remember!).

jessica holding up bow at full draw — This is one of the first times I had practiced with it much. When we lived in West Virginia, we had access to a lot more space!

Slowly asfixiating on my own flem on the couch helped me realize a couple of things about myself in my hunting “career” right at this moment;

I get excited to harvest bucks, but I’m still waiting for the one that will beat my personal best (you can read about that buck here!), and I doubt that’s going to happen any time soon. I want to harvest one again at some point, but it’s not my major priority.
I’m learning the value of coming home with meat rather than empty-handed for the buck I want. My husband and I practically live off of wild game, and we would rather have another deer for the freezer than another set of antlers on the wall.
In my mind, considering how we hunt in South Texas, archery is the next great challenge, and it opens many doors to other types of hunts around the country. I’ve been very blessed to harvest many deer with a rifle, and even one with a crossbow, but I’m ready for the next level.

jessica with a crossbow and small deer — This is my first archery deer ever! I don’t care what anyone says; crossbows are bows. It was a perfect first attempt at harvesting a deer with any kind of bow!

Maybe it was the lack of oxygen getting to my brain, but I’ve officially decided to start taking actual steps towards being able to harvest a deer with my bow next season. In order to do that, I have to navigate 3 major hurdles; time, space, and strength. After doing some thinking and a little bit of research, I’ve come up with a plan!

Time: working from home on your own schedule has its advantages! I’m a part-time ballet dancer, and I like to unwind a little bit after morning classes before diving into work. I’m going to tag archery practice onto the end of my ballet classes because of #2…
Space: I found an indoor archery range that’s between my home and the dance studio! On my way home from ballet, I’m going to stop there for a bit to shoot my bow, then head the rest of the way home.
Strength: Consistent practice will help with this, but I’m also going to continue working on my back and rear shoulder strength at the gym. I’ve found a few exercises that I think will help build strenght in the right muscles so I can updgrade my draw weight and finally get where I need to be.

Got my plan, now I just need to actually do it, which is always the hardest part. But I’ve had my bow for eight years. I see people with full time jobs mastering a compound bow and harvesting incredible animals. What’s my excuse?

I don’t have one. Not anymore.

So this is me telling anyone who reads this blog because I want to hold myself accountable. And maybe, if I can do it, someone else out there who wants to become a bow hunter will see this and realize that they can do it, too.

jessica holding up her bow to take a shot

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The Last Frontier: Day 1 in Kenai

Back in Alaska, okay… let’s talk about Kenai!

The first thing we noticed about Kenai when turned west to head to a different region of the peninsula was the return of cellphone service. Just kidding (kind of)… Misty mountains and fjords gave way to smaller peaks and river delta land. Eagles soared between the towering trees and moose signs became plentiful along the roads. And there, along the roadside, we could just glimmers of turquoise water rushing down towards the Cook Inlet.

If you’ve never seen glacier rivers in real life, the water is the most beautiful turquoise green of all colors. Compared to our sometimes blue, sometimes muddy brown water on the coast, I was immediately mesmerized by this new water.

As we traveled further West, the land slowly flattened around us and we glimpsed the river along the roadside more and more often. It seemed like a promise of wonder and adventure when it would be our turn to take to the river for sockeye.

We woke the next day to rainy, dreary morning; thank goodness for rain gear. The anticipation of finally getting out to fish was impossible to ignore, so we spent the morning wandering around between Soldotna and Kenai, which are about 10 minutes apart along the highway.

The time finally came for us to meet our guide at the boat ramp and start the true treat of our trip! We had our rain gear packed with plenty of layers so we were ready for some cooler temperatures and water. Captain Rob set us up with some hip waders and we were off to the races, the green water gleaming under an overcast sky.

There are two things that my husband and I immediately learned about fishing in a new place for a new species on this trip. #1: do some research. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into when we took on “flossing” for sockeye and were completely unprepared when our guide asked us if we brought our own waders. #2: when you go fishing for salmon in Alaska, bring your own waders!

I digress.

Our main targets on this trip were Chinook and Sockeye salmon, which were both running around this time. Fishing for the Chinook was slightly more familiar to how we fish in South Texas; our guide cast out some special lures to float behind us and we trolled along banks in the hopes of encouraging a king to bite.

Suddenly, one of the rods bent over and the captain went to bring in the other rod; fish on! My husband, Court, let me take the first hook of the day and I slowly reeled the in fish with Captain Rob’s guidance. I imagined the kinds of the Chinook salmon I’d seen online when looking forward to this trip and couldn’t wait to see how big this one was. The funny thing about fishing for a new species is that it’s almost impossible to gauge how big the fish is; this one felt like a lower slot speckled trout, to me.

Captain Rob netted the fish and lifted it just high enough to let us get a look, but never removing it from the water. “Take a picture of it if you want,” he said, holding the net still while I grabbed my phone to take quick snap. No sooner had we taken some pictures, he unhooked it and let it go again.

“We can’t take kings out of the water,” he explained. This baffled me as we tossed out the rods to try again. I knew we weren’t allowed to keep them, but we couldn’t even take them out of the water? This wasn’t the Chinook fishing I had expected, and we could tell Captain Rob was a little bit disappointed, too.

While we waited for another bite, he told us more about the Chinook fishing he’d experienced over the 30-odd years he had been a guide in the area. He told us about monster kings that they used to catch when we first started, fish that would fight over an hour and drag you all over the river. He showed us pictures of Chinook almost as big as the King Fish we catch offshore and I couldn’t imagine hooking into one of those on this lighter tackle!

So where had all these fish gone?

It was a painfully familiar tale. As commercial fishing grew in the area, Chinook populations started to go down. Recreational anglers would catch these big breeder salmon and keep them rather than letting them continue upriver to make more salmon. He recalled more than a few instances with slightly misty eyes about hooking into these huge salmon and offering discounted (sometimes even free) fishing trips if the customer would release it back to the river; but most of them kept the fish anyway.

Over time, the damage had been done; the chinook salmon populations around Cook Inlet and along the Kenai River began to dwindle. Regulations and limits put in place were too little too late. The Kings of the Kenai were disappearing.

It wasn’t long after this that Court got his chance to bring in a fish! The rod bent over as if on cue from our conversation and we jumped up to help him. Just as we brought in the other rod, Court had brought the salmon up next to the boat and Captain Rob quickly netted it for a picture. I imagined what these little salmon could grow into based on Rob’s pictures, and I hoped they made it that far. That maybe their populations could someday rebound with the right management.

Since this trip, I’ve started looking into commercial fishing and its effects on populations, but that is a post for another time. Unfortunately, this would become the theme of the fishing portion of our trip.

The fishing continued to slow down from here, but Captain Rob and Captain Court got to talking about being captains in Alaska versus Texas. With a grin, Rob offered to let Court captain the boat for a few minutes. If you’ve ever met my husband, it’s when he gets quiet and more reserved that you know he’s actually very excited; Court accepted the offer very calmly, though I know he was so excited!

So for one trip, Court got to captain a fishing vessle on the Kenai River. That’s a pretty cool experience to bring home!

At this point, Captain Rob was ready to move away from targeting Chinook and on to targeting sockeye. This is where we messed up by not having our own waders, but the hip waders were a huge help.

We pulled over onto a bank and carefully climbed into the rushing water. It sounds kind of silly now that I’m writing it, but I just never realized how different it would be to fish a river versus the ocean bay. On the bay, we deal with wind, water clarity, air/water temperatures, depth, and structure on the bottom. I’ve never had to worry about the strength of the current, fishing in the right direction, and trees. The trees, though!

Captain Rob explained to us the concept of “flossing” for sockeye and then turned us loose. The general idea is that you take your rod (typically a fly rod) and toss it a little upstream, let it float through the water (you’ll have a weight on the bottom that you want to feel bounce), and then you’ll rip it through the water in the hopes of snagging a fish in the mouth. If you hook them anywhere else, you have to release them. Somehow, it felt even harder than it sounds.

Also, I’m not used to using a fly rod of any kind to do anything, so that was also an entirely new experience for me. I suppose you could say… I was a fish out of water…

All jokes aside, Court and I tried our best and didn’t get the chance to test our flossing after all. Captain Rob kept us out almost 3 hours later than we had booked in the hopes of getting into fish, but it just wasn’t happening for us.

Rob was probably even more disappointed than we were after we got back to the docks. That was the first of many times that we would hear about the nets; the nets would go out at the mouth of the river a couple of days during the week for commercial fishing. These nets would, naturally, prevent many fish from actually making it into the river and would make fishing for them upriver extremely difficult.

The odds had been against us that day, not unlike many days we had spent on our home waters. When it comes to hunting, fishing, or trapping, there’s just never a sure thing. No matter how much you hear about a place or type of fishing, they’re also vulnerable to the elements that make nature unpredictable where you live.

A deer that walks the same route every single day will eventually decide to take a detour for some unknown reason; fish that have been pentiful and biting in the same little spot will suddenly stop biting or move on; the pond where ducks like to land on their trek south will suddenly seem unappealing to a glock for an unknown reason.

That’s nature. Even when you travel all the way to Alaska, nature will be unpredictable.

We were, admittedly, a little bit disappointed by our first fishing trip in Kenai for sockeye salmon. There were a lot of factors against us, but we still got to go fishing in Alaska for salmon on the Kenai River. The trip of a lifetime. We still got to be a part of the tradition and learn a completely different way of fishing. I think the greatest lessons come from the hardest days, both in life and in fishing.

While Court had to pack up to end his trip, mine was just beginning. The next day, I would meet up with three other women from ReelCamo Girl for my first ever women’s fishing trip and get to experience something else entirely new for me; fishing without my mentor for the first time.

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Back Online

Hello, friends! If you’re reading this, then I know that you’re one of the real ones because I just haven’t been consistent lately on social media or my blog. It’s one of the cardinal sins of building an online presence, along with sharing too many selfies or too many pictures of what you had for lunch that day… and the social media gurus will tell that you that it’s the fastest way to destroy all of your hard work! Nooooooooooooooooo…

As someone who works on social media for a living (yes, I’m a social media manager!) and for fun (hello prostaffing and blogging activities!), let me tell you this.

Social media burnout is real. And it is brutal.

Right at the end of April, I finished off a stint in a leading role as “Drucilla, the Ugly Stepsister” in the Corpus Christi Ballet’s production of “Cinderella”. Soon after, I wrapped up the dance studio’s recital and attended my sister’s wedding in Kansas. It seemed like we would finally be back on the water and I was pumped to start creating content for another season on the DSG Fish and ReelCamo Girl Prostaff teams.

If you’ve heard anything about Texas or live in Texas, then you know that we’ve had some of the hottest temperatures in years and a perpetual drought all over the state. Unfortunately, even saltwater ecosystems are not immune to drought conditions, and our beloved Laguna Madre suffered. Water levels dropped to winter depths (in other words, the water was gone) and the rising temperatures raised the water temperature, too. To escape the heat, the fish vanished.

My husband kept in contact with his bayfishing guide friends for updates on water and fishing conditions so we could get back on the water once they improved. Week after week passed with no change. Guides started turning down trips because there just weren’t any fish.

Can you imagine?

That was our reality this summer, and as someone who needed to crank out content for her outdoors platforms during fishing season when there weren’t any fish, I was a little anxious. Okay, I was freaking out. The few times we made it out, the content I was able to make just didn’t last.

I watched other outdoorswomen online slaying it on the water all season, catching all these fish and spending every weekend on the water. With each scroll of my finger, I felt myself sink lower and lower into social media despair. I have nothing to share.

Coming up with anything to post started to wear on me on top of creating content for my clients’ profiles and it didn’t take long for me to hit the burnout point.

And right before last week, while I was teaching dance, one of my students was horrifically injured and I fell into a major funk. Like, do-the-bare-minimum-to-keep-things-running funk. I didn’t scroll. I didn’t post. I just stepped away while I tried to break out of my funk and back into a rhythm.

My accidental hiatus from social media is probably the most productive thing that I’ve done all summer. I woke up today (Monday, when I’m writing this) and felt ready to create content. Maybe even excited to create content for the first time in a long time.

It reminded me of a few lessons I’d forgotten over the months;

Social media is a highlight reel; you can’t even begin to compare the everyday positives and negatives with the big highlights that others choose to share on social media.
Mental health > content creation. End of story. If you need a break, you need a break. And your followers will understand. (Or they won’t, and that just means they never fully supported you anyway.)

Social media is a double-edged sword. It connects us with people and opportunities that we would never find without it. It can breed comparison, anxiety, and make us feel worse about ourselves. At the end of the day, you have to decide how you will let social media influence your life; connection or comparison?

As deer season takes off, don’t let the endless “grab-and-grins” make you feel less if your freezer is still empty. Don’t let someone’s pose with a high fence monster make you feel bad about the buck you stalked and worked your tail off to finally harvest. Don’t let yourself compare your day-to-day with someone else’s extraordinary day.

If you’ve followed my rambling to this point, then I also hope that you’ll take some time and give yourself space when you need it. Your mental health should always be your priority, no matter what.

This felt like a pretty vulnerable post compared to my usual content, but I hope it’s the start of a more authentic, less curated “me” online.

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The Last Frontier: Seward, Alaska

Plop. Bounce. Rip.

The cadence of my fly rod and reel lulled me into a peaceful state as I took in the world around me. Spruce trees reached skinny fingers into the slowly brightening sky streaked with clouds. Gulls perched regally at the tops of trees and observed the anglers below with a quizzical tilt to their little heads. Fog glided over the tumbling surface of the river as it insistently nudged my legs under the water.

Plop. Bounce. Rip.

This was the first sunrise I had ever seen on the Kenai Peninsula and it took my breath away more than the chilled air. If you had told me I’d be on the Kenai River fishing for sockeye salmon while watching the sunrise at 3:30AM, I might’ve thought you were crazy. Almost a week later, it feels like some kind of amazing, fantastic dream.

Plop. Bounce. Rip.

But it was all real.

Plop. Bounce. Rip.

Plop. Bounce... Snag!

I didn’t feel the cold anymore as the salmon on the end of my line started leaping frantically out of the water in the cool morning air and it was all I could to focus on keeping the fish on the line. Back up, reel, keep the rod tip down and pointing downriver.

Just as soon as it started, our guide, Mike, had the fish netted and pulled onto the bank. It was only the fourth time I had ever landed a sockeye salmon, but I was already hooked.

This was on the second day of four fishing with three other women on an all-ladies trip to the Kenai Peninsula for a weekend of sockeye salmon fishing. Or “flossing”, rather.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, because I actually started this trip with Court.

For three days, he “third wheeled” (as he lovingly called it) with me before I met up with the girls for the second half of the trip. And as we’re known to do, we packed in as much as we could into those three days.

We started our trip in Seward, Alaska, down near the Southern-most tip of the Kenai Peninsula. For such a small town, Seward is steeped in both natural splendor and historic significance. Known as the gateway to Alaska, it’s the marine hub of Resurrection Bay, one of the only bays that doesn’t freeze over in Alaska. The trail that became the Iditarod started there and it remains a famous fishing village for the deepwater fishing in the fjords. And yes, it’s the easiest place to access the Kenai Fjords National Park. This place checked two of our favorite things when it comes to travel; history and nature.

mountains surrounded by mist above the ocean

We started our time in Seward with a 6 hour boat tour of the Kenai Fjords National Park, following the route shown below:

map of the Kenai Fjords National Park that shows the route we took through Resurrection Bay and into Aialik Bay — We went down along the islands on the east side of Resurrection, down low past Aialik cape, and then up through Aialik Bay and to the west; from there, we snuck up into Aialik Bay a little further north, and then hugged the coastline on the way back.

Early on in the trek through Resurrection Bay, we stopped at one of the few rookeries for Steller Sea Lions in Alaska. They were everywhere, and some of them were huge.

a group of Steller sea lions rests on some rocks on a misty island — This one of the few Steller Sea Lion rookeries in Alaska! It’s hard to tell from here, but they are HUGE.

After taking a little chop between Resurrection Bay and the Gulf of Alaska, we came upon an incredible sight; humpback whales feeding. I don’t think those three words convey the gravity of that simple statement: humpback whales feeding. I’d never seen whales in the wild before, much less a small pod of them bubble net feeding less 100 yards off the bow of our boat. It was such an incredible experience.

In the picture with their noses sticking out of the water and the birds all over the surface, it’s called bubble net feeding! They blow bubbles to push the fish to the surface and then swim up all at once, almost like breaching! The birds love it, too.

By now, we were getting into some of the fjords again and enjoying spectacular views of waterfalls, a wide variety of birds, and even a glimpse of the Holgate Glacier. Not a bad view for lunch, right?

an island in the fjord just hiding the glacier from view between two mountains — If you look beyond that island, you can just see the glacier!

From there, we went on to Aialik Bay and the Aialik Glacier. When I tell you that I didn’t know anything natural could be that shade of blue, I really mean it. That soft, icy blue was such an incredible beautiful color and the pictures can never really do it justice. If seeing the Taj Mahal in February was the most incredible man-made thing I’ve ever seen, then the Aialik Glacier might e the most incredible natural thing I’ve ever seen. Check out all the pictures.

As we headed back to Resurrection Bay, we enjoyed more sights of birds, fantastic cliffs, meandering waterfalls, and even a small raft of sea otters!

After returning to Seward, we spent some time at the Sea Life Center and enjoyed getting a little closer to the Steller Sea Lions, Harbor Seals, Puffins, and other birds. Did you know that watching puffins dive for food is an instant serotonin boost? You do now.

Here are the puffins being fed! I was surprised at how deep they and some of the ducks would dive for food. Super cool! (And cute!)

And one more of the seals because I can! These animals were such a treat to see up close at the Sea Life Center!

As we closed the black-out curtains in our hotel room and settled in for the night, I think it’s safe to say that Alaska had already shattered our expectations, and it was only the first full day!

mountains along the fjord shrouded in mist

Next post, we’ll go for one more excursion in Seward before heading to Kenai for our first experience fishing on the Kenai River. I hope you’re ready for several posts about our time in Alaska, because it has become one of the most formative experiences of my life on so many different levels. I can’t wait to share more with you!

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Spinning Reel Hack!

It’s been a long time since I’ve shared to my YouTube channel, but I’m working on getting back on the horse!

With fishing season now around the corner, I’m posting a throwback to one of my tried and true methods of fishing for speckled trout here in the Laguna Madre. Hooking them properly during croaker season can be a little challenging, but I’ve found a little trick that works perfectly for hooking finnicky trout!

It’s just about that time for fishing with croaker again, and I can’t wait to be back in the Laguna. I’m not making any promises about sharing a bunch of YouTube videos, but I’m going to try to share some this summer!

Enjoy!

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Around the World in Ten Days: Ranthambore

As excited as we were to experience the majestic history of the Red Fort and Taj Mahal, the prospect of Ranthambore really captured my imagination on our trip to India.

We would embark on two separate safaris in search of solitary Bengal tigers deep within the thick jungle of Ranthambore National Park. The park covers 515 square miles of forested land to protect tigers, sloth bears, various deer, peacocks, monkeys, and other forest dwelling creatures of South East Asia.

Let me just let you off the hook before you keep reading; we didn’t see any tigers. They have such large territories that it’s pretty unusual to see one, though that’s always the hope as these safaris take off under a dark morning sky. Our guide even mentioned a couple going on trips for six days before they finally saw one! That’s the way it goes, sometimes.

We set out on the first morning in a jeep, the sun still hidden behind tree-covered mountains. Sambar deer called softly in the darkness, and our guide thought it might have been a sign that predators were in the area. We later found out it might have been because it was actually the sambar deer rut.

I think you’ll enjoy our journey through the park better in as many pictures as I can share without crashing my own site!

small watering hole with peacocks and deer around the banks — There were a couple of peacocks and deer hanging around this watering hole

axis deer (or spotted deer) grazing under the trees — There were a couple of peacocks and deer hanging around this watering hole

We took a short break back at our beautiful hotel, probably my favorite that we got to stay in! It almost felt like hunting back home, stumbling in after an early morning searching for animals and taking a short nap before setting back out to try again. Except the only thing I would be shooting with was my camera!

We set back out on a larger vehicle, and I’m not entirely sure what to even call it… We went back in search of tigers and learned this time that it was definitely the sambar deer and spotted deer (or as we call them, axis deer!) rut in India. From massive bucks catching their breath after chasing does to aggressive showdowns, we enjoyed experiencing a special time of the year for these animals.

Court, my husband, and I also agreed that we would probably never axis deer back in Texas quite like the ones we had seen at Ranthambore National Park. What an incredible experience it was.

spotted deer behind some trees — Hello gorgeous!

crocodile or alligator on the bank in the sun — Hello gorgeous!

Just as we were about to turn in, we came across a truly rare sighting; a sloth bear! Thought they look small, fluffy, and cuddly, they’re tough enough that even Bengal tigers will go out of their way to avoid them. Their long, sharp claws are formidabl for defense or offense, and they allow for quick climbing, too. If a tiger won’t mess with them, I probably wouldn’t, either!

It was pretty far away, but it really didn’t look very big, not like black bears and grizzlies in North America!

As an avid outdoorswoman, it was such a privilege to see these animals in their native habitat. You think you know about something when you’ve experienced it in the United States, whether it’s poffertjes in Pella, Iowa or spotted deer in South Texas; but it’s never quite the same as what you find when you go to the source.

Just two days after we left the wedding in Jaipur, long after we had left the mystifying trees of Ranthambor National Park, a friend of the groom’s was able to prove to us that there were, in fact, tigers in Ranthambore; it just wasn’t our turn to see one, yet.

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Spinning Reels Vs Baitcasters: Which One To Choose?

With open water fishing season just around the corner, it’s time to start thinking about your equipment and what you might need (or want!) this summer! So… spinning reel or baitcaster?

Think about it like this; in most sports, when you reach a certain level of dedication and skill, you find yourself trading our your equipment for something new and considerably more difficult to use that also reaps greater rewards.

For inshore fishing, that is undoubtedly the difference between fishing with a spinning reel and a baitcaster. As someone who has fished with both, there are definitely pros and cons to each type of reel!

Is fishing with a baitcaster the end-all, be-all of inshore fishing? Nope. But it can be a major game-changer when it comes to hooking and landing bigger fish.

Spinning Reel Vs. Baitcaster

Let’s run down the main differences between a spinning reel and baitcaster before we start diving into the benefits!

The spinning reel consists of a spool of line that is guided by a piece called the bail up along the rod. As you start reeling, the spool spins and starts pulling the line in. In order to allow the line to move freely, you have to “flip” the bail (this is an integral part of casting the spin caster, too). You can tighten the drag using a knob on top of the spool to make it easier or harder for fish to pull out line while the bail is closed.

Short little video showing the mechanics of a spinning reel; very easy and quick to learn!

The bait caster is a bit more complicated. At the bottom of the spool, there is a thumb bar that you can press to allow the line to move freely out of the spool and up along the guides on the rod. In order to reengage the thumb bar, just start reeling! This reel also includes magnets that allow the spool to spin faster or slower when the thumb bar is disengaged, which is extremely important when casting. There are two knobs to adjust these magnets (one for major adjustments and another to “fine-tune”).

The baitcaster is a little more complicated and has a bit of a learning curve.

So which one is better? Well, this is typically a personal preference, but there are definitely some key advantages to a baitcaster, especially for a more skilled angler.

Casting – Advantage: Baitcaster

When it comes to casting, the baitcaster is far superior. In my experience, it takes a lot of effort to fling that bait with a spinning reel, especially when you have a longer liter for things like top-water rigs. And if you’re like me, by the time you’ve gotten enough momentum to sling that bait as far as you can, the accuracy is completely gone.

With the baitcaster, it doesn’t take nearly as much force to get the bait moving in the air and because you can control how fast the line unspools in the air, you have the ability to sling it much farther. Within an hour of working with a baitcaster, I was casting almost twice as far as I can with a spinning reel. With a little more practice, I was actually able to cast more accurately, too.

The other thing I love about casting with a bait caster is that you don’t need as much room to cast. This is especially helpful if you’re casting in a busy or crowded area. We are lucky to have a long, wide boat and when there are more than three people, it becomes tricky (and if you’re around me, hazardous!) to cast a spinning reel.

Windy Weather – Advantage: Spinning Reel

I know I just made a big deal about how much better the baitcaster is with casting, but there is one instance where that just won’t be the case. Windy weather.

When you cast a baitcaster, you control the speed with the pressure of your thumb on the spool as it unspools in the air. If spool starts rotating faster than the line, the line can start to tangle on the spool. This can happen with any cast, and you’ll often find yourself quickly smoothing out a tiny one or adjusting your thumb on the spool to fix one, and that’s completely normal. Every once in awhile, though, you’ll get one bad enough that you’ll either spend a lot of time fixing it on the boat, or, *gulps* you’ll have to cut it off when you get home…

When the wind is at your back, though, you can cast like a dream without any issues (and most captains on a boat will situate it so you get to cast this way). If you’re on a dock or stuck casting into a cross wind or wind at your face, this will make baitcasters much easier to tangle and potentially more frustrating than helpful in the end.

The spinning reel, though, is much harder to tangle no matter what direction the wind is coming from. Since it relies on the bait flying through the air to pull the line out of the spool, it’s extremely difficult to birdnest a spinning reel. (I didn’t say it was impossible, though!)

At the end of the day, I would say that this is the major downfall of a baitcaster, but it’s still usable in windy weather if you can get the wind at your back.

Landing Fish – Advantage: Baitcaster

Long before I ever got the chance to learn to cast with them, I have actually landed several fish on a baitcaster. Usually on my husband’s rig while he was fixing mine up!

The ability to let the fish run with line makes for a more flexible approach to landing a fish, especially a big one. When we fish with croaker, I used to miss several large fish because they would start running with the bait before I could flip the bail and give them some space, which inevitably ended with them coming loose.

With a baitcaster, that control is as simple as pressing your thumb down to disengage the thumb bar. And when you want to start reeling, you just start reeling instead of fumbling with a bail. There’s nothing quite as disappointing as getting a huge hit, only to lose a monster because there was no room for it to run.

So… Which one?

If have the time to really learn it, I absolutely recommend a baitcaster to anyone serious about fishing! All of the pros really outweigh the cons. It’s easy to handle, makes casting a breeze, and gives you a little more room to fight that monster fish.

My only caveat to this is that if you’re newer to fishing or haven’t mastered the spinning reel, start there. I know people who have fished most of their lives with a spinning reel and caught monster fish; using a baitcaster is not a requirement for success. The spinning reel teaches you all of the fundamentals and delivers high performance in almost all conditions.

My Finnore spinning reel has been my trusty companion now for a couple of years, and I’m excited for more fishing adventures with my Abu Garcia baitcaster! That’s the beauty of reels; they have one that works for everyone, so you just have to find the one that’s best for you.

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Around the World in Ten Days: The Taj Mahal

Looking back at the pictures, I still can’t believe that we actually saw the Taj Mahal. That beautiful and unusual structure gracing National Geographic publications, making cameos in movies, popping up in geography textbooks, and occasionally appearing in history books.

But it was real, and it was incredible. I think it may be one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen in my life (and it will probably remain that way!).

Before turning in for the night at Agra Fort, we snuck down to the backside of the Taj for some pictures and a little sneak peek at what our next tour would have in store. Even from here, there was something mysterious and beautiful about the glowing building across the river from us.

The Taj was much further away than it looks; it’s just that big!

We woke up before the sun could stretch over the horizon and headed to the Taj Mahal under cover of darkness. Sunrise was supposed to be one of the best times to go because there weren’t as many people, and you could supposedly see it “glow”. I was a little skeptical about something built of out of marble in the 1500’s glowing in the dark, but I was excited to see it.

We entered from on of the main gates and were taken aback by the difference in architecture between the Taj and Agra Fort; it was like everything we had seen at the fort, but more. More ornate, more special, more perfect.

Nothing could prepare me for when we walked into the main part of the gardens. The early morning haze made it look almost like a ghost hanging over the reflecting pools and gardens.

This was looking back towards the gate we walked through

Sometimes, I just can’t believe it was real. It was too beautiful.

Here are some quick facts about the Taj Mahal before I just spam this post with pictures:

Emperor Shah Jahan built it for his favorite wife, the Empress Mumtaz Mahal; it took 17 years and 20,000 artisans to build.
The white marble is incredibly rare! It “glows” in the light and is incredibly durable. In the sunrise and sunset hours, it sometimes appears to change colors.
Originally, they were going to build a mirror image mausoleum in black marble for Shah Jahan; in a Game of Thrones-like moment, his sons overthrew him and he spent the rest of his life under house arrest at Agra Fort. When he died, he was fittingly buried at the Taj Mahal with his beloved wife.
The Taj was built to completely symmetrical; symmetry was a key component of its design.
Gemstones were inlaid into the marble in patterns very similar to those at Agra Fort. When the sun hits them just right, they glitter!
The tomb is actually underneath the main area of the inside of the Taj Mahal; they open it to visitors one day per year, the anniversary of her death. (We missed it by about 2 weeks!)
A mosque and a guesthouse flank the mausoleum. Though they have different purposes, they were built to look identical.

Interesting, right? I want to read to much more about this time and place in history after visiting Agra Fort and the Taj Mahal; the people and the relics they left behind have captured my imagination!

It was so incredible to see all of the details up close. It was already a wonder from far away, but as more details emerged up close, it kind of left me speechless. We have nothing even close to this in the United States and it was humbling to see something so ancient and so beautiful.

Unfortunately, it was forbidden to take pictures inside the mausoleum. But I’m the pictures above, you can see all of the inlay detail; imagine it everywhere! In the smallest details, all over the walls in every direction… it took my breath away.

And as we slowly descended down the steps leading away from the gleaming marble structure, the sun’s rays glinted off of turquoise, lapis, coral, carnelian, malachite, and amethyst inlaid in the side of the guest house. As if the Taj wanted to give us one more little show before we left her for the next part of our journey.

I’m still at a loss for words about how it felt to walk along the gardens below the spires of the Taj Mahal in Agra, India.

Maybe that is the qualification to become a “Wonder” of the world; that you fill people with such wonder, they don’t have the words to describe what they’ve seen and how it makes them feel.

With her dying breaths, Shah Jahan’s greatest love asked him for two promises. One, that he would be kind and loving towards their children and wouldn’t separate them.

Two, that he would build something the world had never seen before.

And so he did; the greatest shrine to love ever built.

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Around the World in Ten Days: Agra Fort

When we landed in Delhi, it felt immediately different from Amsterdam. The hazy skies gave a smoky sheen to the skyline and the air felt heavy in my lungs. We had traded chilly, rainy winter for something that felt more like home with humidity and warmth in the air.

Our time in Delhi was short, though; after meeting up with two other friends for breakfast, our little crew began the trek to our first stop on our tour of the Golden Triangle of India; Agra.

It only took a moment on the road for us to realize just how different India was going to be from anything we had ever known; it’s not everyday in the United States that you pass a herd of cows barging through traffic like they own the place!

For my outdoors enthusiasts out there, it was on the first day as we traveled to Agra that we saw our first native Indian nilgai! They waited in the fields along the highway, nearly hidden in the crops and grasses growing there. Who would’ve thought that this South Texan’s first sighting of a nilgai would be halfway across the world in India! My only regret is that we couldn’t get our cameras up fast enough to snap a picture!

At first glance, Agra felt like another Delhi as we entered. That is, until you caught a glimpse of the ghostly form of the Taj Mahal in the distance, a hazy yet familiar shape hovering in the skyline.

But we wouldn’t venture to the Taj Mahal quite yet; that would be our final stop in Agra in the early hours at sunrise.

Today, we would see the home of the Empress who inspired the Taj and the Emperor who built it for her; Agra Fort. Built in the 1500’s by the Mughal kings, the enormous fort is still used by Indian military today. Our tour guide shrugged when he explained that we would only get to see 30% of the entire fort, but we didn’t know at the time that 30% was a lot of fort to see!

As we walked through the enormous gates, I suddenly felt so small; this structure had been here 500 years, and it would probably still be here for centuries after I was long gone. I had never had the sensation of being around something so ancient and it was a really unusual feeling.

Once we walked through the main gates, we came to the outside of the palace, surrounded by manicured lawns and flower beds.

In the third picture, this was a bath that was actually found in the courtyard. It was HUGE! (They’re not entirely sure how it ended up there!)

In the last picture, you can see a smaller arch above the large one at the ground level. The Emperor would ride the elephants up the ramped path you saw up above and would dismount the elephant in that small archway, where his lovely Empress would be waiting to greet him. Literally an elephant door!

The fort has an interesting mix of Indo Islamic architecture

As we walked through the archway above, I gasped audibly. We walked into a courtyard for the White Marble Palace and it was pretty incredible to behold. It was built by Shah Jahan for his chief wives.

This was my favorite part of the entire Agra Fort, honestly!

In some of the pictures above, you might have noticed the darker colored designs on the walls; those are actually carved into the walls and used to hold gemstone inlay! As the fort was conquered again and again through history, people pried out the gemstones until there were none left.

The pictures below are of an area that still has almost all of its gemstones inlayed on the walls, and it has been cordoned off so the gemstones will remain untouched.

If you think this is impressive, wait until you see the same kind of work on the Taj Mahal!

Next, we came out into an area that was reserved for all of the women in the harem; they could shop and sell goods to each other, like a “ladies only” market. Only the Emperor and a few select servants could go there.

This is also where Shah Jahan would’ve met the woman to inspire the Taj Mahal!

From there, we entered the pavilion and courtyard where they held the royal audiences. It was truly a beautiful place!

I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that we walked through only 30% of this enormous fort that was built before America was even discovered. How many people walked those same steps? How many times has someone gazed over those same gardens in wonder? How many times has someone leaned against the open window to get a better view of the Taj Mahal?

Again, I couldn’t help but feel so small beside this ancient structure that had endured over time. I just couldn’t imagine anything coming close to the experience we had ending the day among the spires of Agra Fort, even the Taj Mahal.

You’ll have to stay tuned for the next blog post to find out!

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Around the World in Ten Days: Amsterdam

I took a little break from my blog for a couple of weeks while my husband and I set off on a grand adventure; traveling around the entire planet in ten days. We only had 2 stops planned, but the idea of completely traveling east from Houston until we ran back into Houston just seemed too wild of an opportunity to miss!

The itinerary was simple; we’d spend an extended layover (2 days) in Amsterdam on our way to India. Once we landed in Delhi, we would travel through the Golden Triangle of India and end our trip celebrating with our friend and his fiancé at their wedding.

As excited as we were for this trip, I don’t think either of us were truly prepared for the experience ahead of us.

But I’m getting ahead of myself; our grand adventure around the world started along the chilly canals of Amsterdam in the Netherlands.

Why Amsterdam? Because I’m very Dutch. I grew listening to my Grandpa Roorda telling stories about his family coming over from the Netherlands and settling in a Dutch community in Pella, Iowa. He told me everything it was to be Dutch, how proud he was to be Dutch, and taught me so much about our heritage.

Amsterdam was about halfway between Houston and India, so it was a great place for us to enjoy while acclimating to a new time zone. As soon as we got on the plane, I’ll never forget my husband, Court, looking between me and the Dutch flight attendant in surprise. When she walked away, he looked at me and said, “you really are Dutch; she could’ve been your sister!” This would be one of many times that people on our trip thought I was 100% Dutch.

We landed in Amsterdam at about 7:00am Dutch time on February 18th and we wasted no time getting to the hotel and hitting the streets. Our hotel, the Die Port van Cleve, was situated about a block from Dam Square, the central square in the historic district; we were easily within walking distance of the Anne Frank House, Koninklijk Paleis Amsterdam (the Royal Palace of Amsterdam), the Oude Kirk, and tons of canals and historic buildings.

We started the day with a mandatory coffee while configuring a plan for our first day, which turned into explore everything within walking distance. In case you were wondering, a mocha in a Dutch coffee house is probably the sweetest, chocolatiest mocha you’ll ever drink (also, be warned that a “coffee shop” in Amsterdam refers to a very different establishment, which we did not partake in while we were there…). Mellie’s, just outside our hotel, was also known for their stroop waffles; if you ever travel to Amsterdam, you’ve got to try them at least once.

After some caffeination, we walked through the Dam Square and pretty much walked until we couldn’t walk anymore.

At lunch time, we got some good intel from our hotel concierge on some local fare. Lunch varies in America, but most of us probably eat something savory. Our concierge informed us that a common Dutch lunch was pancakes, waffles, or tomato soup with grilled cheese. So we headed down to Pancakes near the Anne Frank House for some standard lunch pancakes.

This was where I recognized a dish for the first time on our trip; poffertjes. Growing up, we took a few trips here and there to Pella, Iowa to celebrate Tulip Time and spend time with family. Whenever we visited, we made a point of enjoying some poffertjes from a local joint that made authentic Dutch street food. Back then, I couldn’t imagine anything better than these little fried pancakes topped with butter and powdered sugar.

Apparently, not all poffertjes are made equal. Sorry, Pella family; the ones in Amsterdam are just on another level!

Left: Court with our poffertjes! Right: a savory pancake for lunch! It had bacon, onion, and mushrooms.

After a quick nap to reenergize and allow our lunch to settle, we set back out for a canal tour through the city. They took us around to see many different museums, historic homes, points of interest, and included a lot of historic anecdotes about the city. We even passed a home that had been built in 1590; and yes, someone was still living there!

We finished off our day of exploring with a couple of Dutch brews and a charcuterie board of local sausage and cheeses. I’m a little ashamed to admit that I didn’t know the Dutch were known for their cheese, and it was good enough that my non-cheese-eating husband was a fan.

20,000 steps through Amsterdam on our first day brought so many sights and experiences that I had only dreamt of, and we still had another day ahead of us!

Day 2: Windmills, Cheese, Clogs, and Islands

Our second day in Amsterdam started early as we picked our way through the quiet streets to meet up with our tour guide and bus. We quickly boarded the bus and headed to the outskirts of the city to Zaanse Schans (sounds like “zohn schons”).

We saw the windmills long before the bus stopped in the parking lot of the picturesque little village. After a quick explanation from our tour guide, we were free to explore the windmills and village for about 40 minutes before boarding the bus again.

Our next stop, and probably my favorite, was the medieval village of Edam (sounds like “ay-dohm). This little village was full of homes even older than those in Amsterdam! They even had an old bell tower from a church that had long since been torn down and replaced by an even bigger one at the edge of town. Our guide was quick to point out that the Dutch were efficient and practical about building on their swampy delta land, and this village was no exception.

From there, we got to learn about Dutch cheese and the wooden clogs! The cheese shop we visited explained how cheese was made and how the same cheese could taste different depending on the age; I never knew there was young, middle-aged, and old cheese! We also got to watch one of the few people who knew how to make the wooden clogs by hand create a small pair of clogs. I didn’t buy any, but apparently they’re good for posture and lower back pain!

As for the cheese, we got to sample at least 12 different types and I think my husband likes cheese now!

For lunch, we visited the waterside town of Volendam (sounds like “vull-ihn-dohm”). It looks just like you might imagine a little Dutch village overlooking the water; and although it might look like the sea, this body of water is freshwater! When they built the dikes to protect the town, the water of Markermeer Lake slowly turned from salt to fresh.

After walking the cobblestone streets (and deftly avoiding some cars and bikes!), we stopped at a restaurant highly recommended by our guide. Our hostess sat about 10 of us down at a table together and stared us down as we quickly had to decide between the fish and the chicken (though, as she recommended tersely, the fish was best!). Bowing to peer pressure, we each ordered fish and awkwardly started introducing ourselves. Over a meal of amazing fried fish, potatoes and salad, we bonded with people from Minnesota, Scotland, Singapore, and London. You just never know who you’re going to meet when you hop into a tour bus!

Markermeer Lake from the top of the dike!

Last, but not least, we drove around Markermeer Lake into Marken, an island village. We walked around the village along a dike, shocked to see that the water level on one side of the dike was much higher than the homes and businesses on the other side. We learned a lot about the ever present threat to the Dutch way of life: the water.

Ever since people settled in the Netherlands, the water has challenged them in the same way that it challenges New Orleans in Louisiana. The windmills, dikes, and canals that have made the Netherlands famous were all designed to pump out the water, protect homes, and reclaim land. With rising sea levels, the new challenge is learning to keep the water out and/or live with it. In fact, one of the cheese we tasted near Edam was made from milk taken from a floating dairy farm. The Dutch have dairy farms that float. I can’t even make this up!!

The Beatrix Bridge and all others in Marken are named after Dutch royalty

As we walked the streets full of electric cars, bikes, and a noticeable lack of one-use plastic, it all made sense. They strive to protect the environment so they can protect their way of life, and I can see how someday, electric cars could make a difference here, too. I don’t think the technology is there yet, but as someone who loves nature, I think there is definitely promise.

After our tour, we grabbed some souvenirs and ended our time in Amsterdam with another brew and charcuterie at our favorite Dutch pub. (Okay, the only Dutch pub we visited!)

Final Thoughts

On Monday morning, we packed our bags and prepared to leave. I looked out over the city one more time from our hotel room and felt this sadness deep in the pit of my stomach. While eating the food, meeting the people, and seeing the land with my own eyes, I felt more connected to my family’s heritage than ever. As cheesy as it sounds, I felt Dutch.

But when I looked back at the top of the Royal Palace and thought about how long that incredible building had stood there, I realized something. Amsterdam had been here long before I had ever set foot on her cobblestoned streets, and she would be here long after.

The sun setting over Amsterdam one more time before we left.

I think I could write a book about our short time in Amsterdam, it was such an incredible experience! This was my first crossing one of the oceans to travel, my first time in Europe, and my first time in a country that spoke a language other than Spanish or English. Wow. I will leave you with a few other anecdotes and thoughts about our time in Amsterdam:

There are a lot more canals than we expected, even knowing there were supposed to be a lot of canals!
I didn’t know that the Dutch were known for their cheese, and I have to say it was probably the best cheese I’ve had!
The Dutch seem to love their sweets! The poffertjes are truly delicious.
I was initially hoping to find an authentic Dutch Letter (this is a pastry I love from the bakery in Pella!) but I’m also kind of relieved because they won’t be ruined for me!
Stroop waffles are worth the hype. Most definitely.
It takes a minute to get used to where the road and walkways are; the electric cars are silent, but they’ll try not to run you over. The bikes, on the other hand, will kill you.
There are bikes everywhere. Everywhere.
People leave their curtains open; Amsterdam, Zaanse Schans, Edam, Volendam, and Marken. Our tour guide said they kind of operate under the idea that “good citizens have nothing to hide”; maybe there’s something to it.
You’re probably wondering about the Red Light District, and we accidentally wandered into it the second night! It’s mostly bars and clubs, and the famous red lit windows seem concentrated around the Oude Kirk (the old church!) of all places…
Our tour guide mentioned that while he was living in Amsterdam (he was originally from New Jersey!), he learned that culturally the Dutch could be very direct. Not rude, just a little more direct than we were used to in America. We wouldn’t experience this until we were trying to track down our luggage in Delhi, when a Dutch passenger would tell me where she had found her suitcases and that if I would “just look at the screens above the carousel; it says it right there!” (It did not say it on the screens lol.)
Two days was not enough time for us to see everything we wanted to see, but it was just enough time for us to know that we will definitely be coming back someday!

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When in India… or Texas?

When you hunt on a deer ranch in Texas, there really aren’t too many unexpected creatures that might wander up to the feeder.

You’ve got your whitetail deer, of course. A small herd of wild hogs might bowl through the bushes and massacre the corn at the feeder. You could also be visited by a handful of sneaky little raccoons, or gobbling wild turkeys. In a rare moment, a spotted bobcat might even saunter past your stand. The coyotes may not show themselves, but you wouldn’t surprised to hear them barking at each other in the shelter of the thick mesquite trees.

But an Axis deer? Or a nilgai? A big spotted deer or giant, dark grey elk-looking animal with tiny horns probably wouldn’t be on your radar.

And yet… these exotics are slowly making their place in the South Texas ecosystem.

We’ve encountered just a handful of axis deer while deer hunting, and it’s truly amazing how foreign they seemed grazing on the same corn as the whitetail around them. Next week, my husband and I will (hopefully!) have the unique opportunity to see them and the other honorary Texan exotics in their original habitat in India!

Don’t mind me, just nerding out about large game animals over here…

So before our trip, I thought it would be neat to look into the three common native Indian species that have found a new home in my home, Texas.

Axis Deer

Ever since I got into hunting, I have dreamed of someday harvesting an axis deer. With their unusual antlers, smattering of white spots, and chestnut coloring, they are truly a unique animal to behold in North America! They’re native to India, Nepal, and Sri Lanka and were originally brought to Texas in the 1930’s as a new game meat. Since then, small groups have escaped captivity and established themselves in the warm wilds of Texas, particularly in the Hill Country and South!

There is no exact rutting season for axis deer, so you’ll see many bucks in different stages throughout the year; some in velvet, some antlerless, and others ready to go! I can also say from experience that axis deer meat tastes slightly different from our native whitetail venison… dare I say… better?

Since they’re considered an exotic, you can hunt them year round at any game ranch with a population on their property; there are many reputable ranches scattered throughout Texas if you’d like to see one up close!

Photo Credit: https://biologydictionary.net/axis-deer/

Nilgai

Most people can’t agree on how to pronounce this one… but we can all agree that they’re incredible animals to behold. A strange cross between an elk and a horse, they tower over the softly waving grasses of Coastal South Texas like otherworldly creatures. The bulls will range from a chestnut brown to a nearly blue-grey hue as they age (they’re affectionately known as “blue bulls”!). Despite their imposing size, they have small horns and flash unusual markings and stripes on their hides. They were also brought to Texas in the 1930’s to the King Ranch along the coast, where they quickly acclimated to the humid weather.

Like the axis deer, they’re considered an exotic in Texas and can easily be found on game ranches in the southern part of the state. Come check out one of the most unique large game animals you’ll find in North America!

Photo Credit: https://entomologytoday.org/2020/06/04/cattle-fever-ticks-outbreaks-landscape-exotic-antelope-nilgai/

Blackbuck

Of all the exotic species you might see while driving past the numerous high fence ranches in our area, this was the first one I’ve ever seen in person! Almost every time we make the short trek to the family ranch, we pass a high fence on the way with a front yard full of blackbuck. It’s typically an all ladies’ party, but we’ve seen a wildly horned buck a time or two, as well. It was one of the first moments that exotics truly captured my imagination.

Though not as common, another native Indian species on game ranches throughout South Texas is the Blackbuck! Original to India and Pakistan, they were released in the 1930’s on the Edwards Plateau as an alternative game animal. This animal definitely looks like it non-native with its curling horns and tiny, compact body. The bucks are black in color while the does sport a brighter shade of copper.

Like other exotics in Texas, they don’t breed during a specific time of year and can be hunted year round on game ranches, especially in the Edwards Plateau region!

Photo Credit: https://www.barhbarhunting.com/black-buck-antelope

If you’ve read this far, you’ve probably noticed a common trait between these three animals; they’re typically found on private ranches with plenty of opportunities to hunt them year round. So if you find yourself a little bit curious about axis deer, nilgai, blackbuck, or any other number of exotic animals that have found their way into Texas, you might need to take a little visit to our great state and check it out for yourself!

As for me and my husband, we are so excited to travel to India to see them in their true native habitat, where the only shooting that will be done is with my iPhone 8 camera.

References

Axis Deer: http://www.tsusinvasives.org/home/database/axis-axis

Nilgai: https://www.wildlifesystems.com/nilgai-antelope.html

Blackbuck: https://www.depts.ttu.edu/nsrl/mammals-of-texas-online-edition/Accounts_Introduced_Artiodactyla/Antilope_cervicapra.php#:~:text=Native%20to%20India%20and%20Pakistan,are%20found%20outside%20controlled%20areas.

Featured

2022 Deer Season Recap

This deer season felt and looked very different from those in the past.

Instead of social media feeds filled with the typical “grip-n-grin” photos of bucks with enormous racks under the colorful autumn trees, my feed was oddly quiet. Trail cameras full of photos of target deer in the past were unusually empty.

As the season wore on, the general reaction wavered from “Wow, I’m having terrible luck this year!” to, “Is anyone else struggling this deer season?”

The short answer: yes. Across the board with my online connections around North America, this was an unusually tough year for whitetail deer season. Mature bucks from years past had mysteriously vanished; bucks left to grow up a little from last season didn’t seem to grow at all. Even the does seemed a little less active.

What happened?!

I’m no scientist or biologist, and definitely not a deer expert by any means. But at least in South Texas, we’ve been a little suspicious about the drought this past summer. The drought this summer was one of the worst I’ve ever experienced in my life; here on the coast, we went almost two months with 0 rain. Literally 0 inches of rain.

A lot of plant life in our area was practically roasted by constant unimpeded sunlight, 100% humidity, and no rain over the hottest part of the year. I can only imagine what must have happened to the wildlife that relied on the same rain for food and water.

I’ve decided to blame abominable nutrition and extreme weather conditions for the difficulties of this deer season. It’s a tough pill to swallow sometimes, but even people that are as connected to nature as we hunters/anglers are need to be reminded that Mother Nature doesn’t follow any rules but her own.

Whitetail buck looking into the camera — It seemed like all the bucks were just really young this year! Hopefully with a little more rain, he’ll be bigger and stronger next season!

I guess the lesson in this situation is that if you have the means to support your deer population with good nutrition and water sources, you should do it! It may mean the difference between a healthy herd and decimation.

There’s another lesson in all of this, too. With our freezer a little emptier than we’d like, I can’t help but feel grateful that we got one deer at all! It’s not that we don’t feel grateful for what we have, we just get used to living a certain way.

Has your electricity ever gone out? Not even during a storm or blizzard, when the implications of no electricity can be truly terrifying; in the middle of an afternoon over a weekend, when you were hoping to catch up on your favorite tv shows or vacuum the house. Suddenly, we don’t know what to do with ourselves; how did we ever survive without electricity?! And when it comes back on, you heave a sigh of relief and enjoy every second of electric lights, your tv, and the ability to easily clean your house with the vacuum.

But after a few hours, you’ll probably forget what it was like to live shortly without electricity.

I feel the same about deer hunting, sometimes. When you’re used to harvesting several deer a season, including a few nice bucks, it’s easy to forget what it was like when you didn’t enjoy so much success. When you were thrilled to even see a deer, much less harvest one. When you were thrilled to have a single deer in the freezer at all. We become a little complacent in our gratitude, and we forget how truly special it is to harvest an animal to feed your family.

Tough seasons like this are the brutal reminder that nothing is guaranteed when it comes to nature. No matter what the guide or ranch promises, there’s just no way to 100% guarantee what will happen when you set out into the woods.

This is the reality check that will make a good year that much sweeter. It’s all relative, and unfortunately, you can’t enjoy the highs without a few lows here and there.

jessica holding up whitetail doe with rifle in a field — I am still so beyond grateful that this doe walked out back in November!

So if you had a tough deer season this year, know that you’re not alone! And I hope that this experience will make next season that much better.

Until then, let’s go get our hearts broken during turkey season!

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Unexpected Turkeys: the Sequel

What is it about deer hunting that seems to bring out the turkeys?

One minute, you’re sitting in your stand, gazing around the sendero through your binoculars at any movement or remotely deer-shaped shadow in the brush; the next, a flock of jabbering turkeys trots into the pasture like a pack of smaller, less toothy velociraptors.

They poke around the corn, strutting their stuff, puffing up their feathers, and flapping their striped wings like they know they’re beautiful. And to be fair, they are.

For several years, when my husband, Court, would take us deer hunting, I would groan a little bit when a bunch of clucking hens would wander under the feeder. We were hunting deer, after all! It seemed that every fall, at some point during one of our sits, those turkeys would walk out and we would giggle at their bobbing heads and catwalk struts.

It wasn’t until we devoured a smoked wild turkey breast covered in a bacon lattice on Thanksgiving one year that I understood the whole turkey hunting thing; I immediately had turkey fever.

Well. The thing most hunters don’t tell you is that turkey hunting is hard. Deer will give in to hunger, fall into a routine, or make silly mistakes during the rut; even the smartest deer will eventually slip up.

But turkeys are different; they’ll play mind games. They’ll lull you into a false sense of confidence as you cluck at them and they gobble back. Their gobbles will eventually draw closer and closer to where you’re at; your hopes will carefully rise with each response until you can hear him just around the corner from you…

And then he’ll go silent. When he finally responds, further away than ever, it’ll sound like laughter through the trees because he knows he’s won.

Ever since I caught the turkey hunting fever, I have never seen a legal turkey during turkey season. Not a one.

So when we got permission to harvest a mature tom at a friend’s property, I was grateful for the opportunity to be humiliated by a turkey again. We had never seen turkeys at any deer stands on this property before, so I had no expectations. That’s Rule #1 of turkey hunting; have no expectations of seeing or hearing anything.

We packed up my .270 and prepared to bring home some venison; after all, we were heading out to a stand where I’d had great luck in the past.

As expected, as soon as our ride vanished into the darkness, deer started emerging from the shadows and nibbling the corn left in the truck’s wake. The wind brushed the tops of the trees, but it was otherwise silent.

At around 7:00am, the feeder went off loudly in early morning quiet; Court and I both brought out the binoculars as more deer spilled into the open. Straight in front of us, the deer scattered at a thunderous sound through the trees.

No less than thirty turkeys dropped gracefully out of the trees to feed on the corn. My heart skipped at least a couple of beats; it couldn’t be real. At a stand where there had never been turkeys, there were thirty. Sorry, thirty-three; we actually counted them.

Court and I swung our binoculars to the giant flock of feathered velociraptors and searched for the toms. Despite one bearded hen, there was not a single tom in the entire flock.

Thirty-three hens and there was not a single tom in sight! Typical turkey hunting. Laughing as the hens poked through the corn, we turned our attention back to the deer on the other side of the stand.

I had a new monocular with me that I was dying to try, so I rigged up my phone and started practicing filming the enormous flock of hens. Even if they weren’t the birds we were looking for, it’s hard to beat watching them in their element, completely unaware that we were there.

This was the blurry result of one of my attempts with the monocular! It was still fun to mess with!

At about 7:10am, I heard a quiet gobble to our right, taunting us from the trees. “Did you hear that?” I whispered to Court, and he confirmed the gobble. “Figures he would be smart enough to wait in the trees.” With the gobbler quickly fading from my mind, I turned back to the deer.

By now, the hens had congregated to the left of the feeder; I took more videos and pictures with my monocular and had just lowered it to make some adjustments when I noticed a lone, bearded turkey further out to the right. It was sauntering slowly towards the larger group, almost like it was sneaking up on them. Something looked different about this one, though, and suddenly I saw it; a big red and blue head and a huge beard.

“Is that a tom??” I whispered to Court.

“Holy… yes! Get your rifle up!” I grabbed my rifle, managing to bang it on probably any and every surface in the blind. “Aim low on the neck,” he quietly reminded me as I finally got my rifle up and into place.

I slid the safety off and coaxed the crosshairs onto its neck. His head wasn’t tucked all the way into his body, but it wasn’t exactly extended, either. This would be a tricky shot and I was mentally prepared to miss.

“Should I wait until he extends it a little further?” I whispered. When there was not response, I turned to look at Court, and he had his fingers in his ears.

I quickly turned back to the scope, willing the turkey to completely extend his neck. He had moved a little closer to the hens and I knew that if he joined the group, it would be almost impossible to make a shot.

He jutted his little blue head a little bit more and I decided to take my chances.

BOOM!

All I saw through my scope was an explosion of feathers as the others turkeys flapped away loudly. As I slowly lowered my rifle, my entire body started shaking in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. I just shot a wild turkey, I thought, scarcely believing it was true.

I looked at Court and he beamed at me. “Good. Job,” he whispered and somehow I managed to fist bump him. “Let’s go get him.” He started climbing down the ladder of the stand and it was all I could do even try to move to follow him. The ladder shook violently as the adrenaline pounded through my veins.

We walked up to where the tom lay on the ground and I couldn’t believe it. There he was and… oh no!

If you’re not familiar with ballistics, the .270 round is meant to take down animals that are over 100 pounds, like a deer or a wild pig. Big game. And I just shot at a bird that weighs anywhere from 17-21 pounds… You can imagine the kind of the damage that can do.

Without going into gory details, I saw that the bullet had certainly hit its mark, but there was a pretty good chance that some of the meat was damaged. “Do you think the breast was damaged?” I asked, laying a tentative hand on the tom’s feathers. He really was so beautiful up close.

Court laughed at me. “You just got your first turkey! Don’t even worry about that.”

We took a couple of quick snapshots and carried it back to the stand so we could continue deer hunting. It was only when we were back in the stand, settled down and looking for deer again that Court ranged the small pile of feathers still laying on the ground; one hundred yards.

It’s absurd. I spent a couple of years waiting in stands during deer season and wandering through the brush calling into thin air during the spring in the hopes at having a shot at one of these beautiful birds. And when the chance finally came, I would take one with a 100 yard neck shot using a deer-hunting rifle.

But that’s turkey hunting, I guess.

It’s so much work and so difficult to harvest one of these birds. I have major respect to the hunters out there that are able to harvest one every season; I’m for 1/3 for so far! And despite the heartbreak and toil of a few seasons, I’m already hooked for life.

On December 31st of 2022, I finally fulfilled a New Year’s Resolution that had eluded me two years by harvesting my first turkey. Time for some turkey tacos, y’all.

P.S. the breast meat wasn’t damaged! What a way to end the year.

Featured

And With That, the 2022 Season Comes to an End

Can you believe there are only a couple of days left of 2022? I can’t. It’s been such a wild year for me, and I can’t believe how much my life has changed (for the better!).

Here are just a few highlights!

Winning Buckmaster for the first time

jessica and her little brother holding up the buckmaster trophy

It was such an honor to finally take my turn as the Buckmaster in the family competition. I am so proud to be a part of this tradition and thankful for such supportive family members! It will be a treat to crown the next Buckmaster this year!

Taking on a bigger role with ReelCamo Girl

Being able to put my marketing skills to work for a group of women that I admire and a cause that means so much to me has been so rewarding this year! I am so blessed to work with women from across North America who work everyday to make the outdoors industry more inclusive.

Being chosen as a Prostaffer for DSG Fish

Being a Prostaffer with ReelCamo Girl has been such a treat, and to add a company like DSG to that list was such an honor. The gear that they make for outdoorswomen is so thoughtfully made, and I couldn’t be more proud to represent them alongside anglers that I respect and admire so much. I hope to get the opportunity again this summer!

a couple of picutres of jessica holding up speckledtrout in DSG fishing gear: Click here to read the blog post! — Check out some of my favorites from their 2022 line! (Click on the picture!)

Catching my first oversized redfish

jessica holding up large redfish on a boat

I’ve been after an oversized redfish for a few years now, and it finally happened this summer! After countless casts, hundreds of hooks, and disappointing defeat, I finally caught one. He was 28 1/4″, so I’ve the bar pretty low as far as personal best oversized reds, but I look forward to the challenge!

Click on the picture to read more about that experience and how we caught him!

Cooking new recipes

Since starting my own business and working from home, I’ve had a lot more time to cook; before this year, though, I really wasn’t the best cook… Taking time to learn has built my confidence and helped me remember what it’s all really about; meat for the freezer!

This was some osso buco that I made earlier this week from a venison shank! Who knew one of the toughest cuts could fall off the bone when cooked properly.

venison osso buco with a tomato and vegetable sauce on a bed of lightly fried polenta

Harvesting my doe

I know, I talk a big game about being very conservation minded and trying to look beyond the length of the fish or the size of the antlers, and I feel like I was reminded of what that really feels like this year when I harvested a doe. It’s the first one I’ve taken since 2017, and I’m so thankful to have had the opportunity at all. I try to live what I believe, and I feel that I did it this year during deer season.

Click on the picture to read about her harvest a few weeks ago!

There are so many more amazing things that happened this year, and I can’t believe how lucky I am to have experienced these things.

I’m not here to brag, though. Like I said, these are highlights.

They don’t include the toll on my mental health from starting a new business and struggling. Or the frustrations of dealing with multiple injuries throughout the summer and fall. Or the overcooked venison, missing ingredients, and fudged instructions. Or the burnout from trying to maintain a YouTube channel, blog, and multiple social media outlets.

This year had plenty of challenges, and I’ve got a few to overcome at the start of 2023.

But life is short; so why focus on the negative? Even as I’m writing this, I’ve had a frustrating morning full of setbacks. Instead of wallowing in my regrets and disappointments, though, I’m choosing to dwell on the good things from this year and use the rest as lessons to carry me into the new one.

So cheers to the all of the happy highlights of 2022, and all of the better things to come in 2023!

Featured

Gifts for the Outdoorswoman in Your Life

If you’re still looking for some gift ideas for the outdoorswoman in your life… here are some ideas to help you get started!

1. Heated Clothing – DSG Outerwear

I can personally vouch for this company and the amazing gear that they make for women! I enjoyed the opportunity to be a ProStaffer for their open water fishing line this summer and it was very thoughtfully made. Their designs compliment the feminine form while also having real pockets (so many pockets!) for utility. I’ve switched my hunting gear to their hunting line and have heard so many wonderful things about their heated line.

A heated vest is great for hunting, trapping, or really doing anything outside! They have vests, leggings, socks, and more; check out the entire line here!

2. Tactacam REVEAL X-Pro Game Camera

Upgrade your hunting experience with these wifi enabled trail cameras! When you get them set up properly, they send pictures straight to your phone in real time any time the motion sensors take a picture. Keep a close eye on what’s happening in the woods without disturbing the woods so you’re ready for your next hunt.

Get it here!

3. Sord Knife

Sord has created high quality, durable knives to expertly fillet any fish from more delicate inshore varieties to the thickly scaled offshore species. They offer a wide range of lengths and flexibilities, with their 7″ Medium Flex being the top seller. My husband has this knife and loves it! It lasted an entire summer of guided fishing trips before he needed to sharpen it. They also make a 5″ utility knife that would be great for hunting, too, but it’s sold out until spring of 2023; keep an eye out for a restock!

Check out the full line of knives here!

4. Monocular for smartphones

If she’s like me, then she loves taking pictures and videos of the animals she sees while hunting! This monocular helps take sharp, magnified images easily instead of wrestling with a phone and binoculars.

There are so many different options out there, but this one had great reviews on Amazon and came in at a great price point; check it out here!

5. Southern Bullets Kydex Holster

Does your lady conceal carry? She will love these kydex holsters by Southern Bullets! They have a special clip that allows them to attach easily to thicker materials, like denim, and lighter fabrics, like spandex. It doesn’t hurt that there are a lot of fun patterns, too. This is my go-to conceal carry holster for my Glock 43 and I know she’ll love it, too!

Check them out here!

Those are my quick recommendations for Christmas! I wish I could say these were affiliate links, but these are all products that I or someone I know has used in their outdoor adventures.

Now happy hunting! (I mean, shopping!)

Featured

Breaking the Pattern

Read the first part of this series here!

Cold leaves and dried mud crunched beneath our boots as we strode back to the Fiddler’s Green. After an exciting hunt yesterday, we decided it would be best to hunt the same stand one more time.

A tiny knot of uncertainty curled in my stomach as we neared the gray stand. I had passed on a potentially legal buck the night before and a legal doe hoping to see something this morning. Deer were never guaranteed at the family ranch, and my desire to prolong our hunting weekend might just backfire.

I had asked my husband, Court, what he would do if it were him.

He looked me dead in the eye and said, “if it were me, I would shoot the first legal deer that came out this morning. Doe, spike, buck, whichever came out first.”

My mind drifted back to the 2020 deer season, where we had hunted this same stand. I had been blinded by my own competitiveness and desire to get another big buck after harvesting a wall hanger the year before. We had hunted so many times that season at the family ranch, and I had passed on legal buck after legal buck while waiting on the legend of the ranch; Big Boy. And the longer I had waited, the less often he appeared on camera cards. After an entire season of horn hunting, all I had to show for it was plenty of pictures of legal deer and the sting of disappointment.

As I settled back into the dark stand, I made a pact with myself that I wouldn’t make the same mistake.

a field with trees in the background as the sun is coming up

The grinding sound of corn shuffling out of the feeder erupted in the morning silence, startling both of us from our games of solitaire. I carefully lifted my binoculars up, ready to scout out anything that might be attracted by the sound of a feeder going off.

Deep down, I hoped that Sparky, the excited 8-pointer from the night before, would give us a better look this morning.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when a doe came running down the sendero. Her head drifted side to side, wary of any bucks that might be lurking nearby, but she quickly trotted out to the corn.

Court looked over at me, nodding to my rifle. “It’s up to you, but we’ve got a deer at the feeder now.” I considered the doe taking hesitant mouthfuls of corn at the feeder.

“I’ll give it 5 minutes.” He nodded and we both watched the doe in silence.

My mind was loud with a tumble of thoughts as I did the math.

On the one hand, I could wait for a large buck; Sparky could come back, and there was that elusive 9-pointer still out there. Another buck could appear; she had run in pretty quickly, so maybe she was being followed.

I thought back to every buck we had seen on this weekend with the rut in full effect; a nice 8-pointer, a broken-off 10-pointer…

And neither had been legal. And none of the bucks we consistently saw on the trail cameras were legal, either.

There were spikes of course, but we hadn’t seen any in several days even before the storm had scattered them to the wind. We had no way of knowing if there were any in the area.

I glanced at my watch; 3 minutes. Movement caught my eye at the feeder; the doe was getting antsy, looking around every few seconds as if she expected unwanted company at her breakfast. My anxiety mirrored hers, and I knew I couldn’t wait any longer.

“I’m going to do it,” I whispered while carefully maneuvering the rifle through the slot in front of me. The moment I put my eye to the scope, my heart immediately started pounding like a drum in my chest.

The day I don’t get a rush of adrenaline while aiming at an animal is the day I quit hunting.

I took deep breaths in an effort to calm my heart while waiting for her to turn more broadside; she quartered toward me as soon as she lifted her head, and I wasn’t ready.

With each passing moment, she grew more antsy. The doe leapt in and out of my scope as if she knew what was about to happen. “Just take your time, she’ll give you the shot,” Court whispered as he watched through his binoculars.

I took one more deep breath, mentally running through my shooting technique; wait until she’s broadside, keep the crosshairs on the shoulder, squeeze the trigger in one smooth motion, follow through on the shot. The moment she stepped broadside, I squeezed the trigger.

I watched her fall through my scope and the adrenaline rushed through my body again as I racked the chamber of my rifle and put the safety back on. A wave of relief washed over me as I sat back, smiling ear to ear at Court.

We exchanged a fist bump before starting to load up our gear in the deer stand.

When I finally was able to brush my hand over her, I felt immense gratitude for this animal. Even with a healthy deer population around the ranch, a harvest was never guaranteed. Just when you think you’ve found their pattern, deer seem to immediately change course. At the end of a weekend full of nasty weather and crazed bucks, I was grateful to have even harvested an animal.

More than anything, I felt that I had proved myself a mature hunter to me. Jess of two years ago would have let that doe walk. She would have waited, hoping and praying, for a deer that would never come and left empty-handed. There would be one less deer for the freezer, that many less meals for the coming year, and another chip on her shoulder going into the next season.

Ever since the 2020 deer season, when I held out for a legendary buck at the ranch, I have worked every year to hunt smarter. To focus on gratitude for the opportunities I’m given and take the chance to fill the freezer when it arrives.

Let’s be real; deep down, every hunter wants to come home with a huge, monster buck. It’s part of what draws into the woods every year, the quiet fantasy about the kinds of animals that dwell in the shadows of the trees.

And it’s okay to want to bring home a big ole buck with giant antlers and a great story.

For me, I find more fulfillment in bringing home meat for the freezer. To be able to bring food to family or friends and say, “I made this possible; I took that thing from the field and now I’m sharing it with you, providing for you.”

At the end of the day, there are so many valid reasons that people hunt and fish; to provide food for their families, to be out in nature, for the sport, to socialize, for the challenge, to grow as a person, to get away from the bustle of daily life, etc. I am proud and excited to have found one more reason to enjoy the outdoors and the opportunities it has to offer.

On this chilly, windy Sunday morning, I finally took the chance to do that.

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The Rain and the Rut

The sound of pouring rain on the tin roof of the cabin woke me long before my alarm did. A cold front had pressed through overnight, leaving the deer and my chances for hunting scattered.

My husband, Court, had strong doubts about deer hunting in the pouring rain. We would go back to bed for 30 minutes and see if it cleared up by then. Because of my work and ballet schedule (yes, it’s also Nutcracker season!), this would be my only chance to hunt at the family ranch this fall. I felt my time slipping away as the rain pelted the roof even harder.

Trail camera picture of a large buck with his head down grazing underneath a deer feeder — Just one of the camera card pictures we got with this deer; he was certainly fun to hope for!

We checked in every half hour at first. 5:30AM, still pouring. 6:00AM, still pouring. 6:30AM still pouring. We didn’t bother setting another alarm after that. Doubt crept into my mind as I settled back into a fitful sleep; my time was running out.

By lunchtime, the rain was still pouring all around us. My spirits had sunk deep into the mud that now squelched around my boots as we walked out to the truck to get some lunch.

When you’re feeling down, some small town café chicken and waffles on a rainy day really hit the spot. Even though we weren’t hunting like we had hoped, I still got to spend time in one of my favorite places with one of my favorite people, so that’s a major win.

As we started working our way back to the cabin, the rain had slowed to a chilly drizzle. On either side of the road, we watched deer plod through the mud, finally leaving the relative shelter of mesquite trees and brush.

We rushed into the cabin, suited up, and took a walk through the property. Though the rain had finally slowed down, the deer on the property were still hidden. Our walk made for the perfect opportunity to collect camera cards, though, so we could see if anything had actually ventured out into the rain this morning.

As expected, any pattern of behavior was immediately interrupted by the cold front that had blown in. My target nine was nowhere to be found; confirming our worst fears, the rain had pretty much scattered the reliable deer on the property.

There was nothing we could do but hope for the best!

Long before arriving, Court and I had already decided we would hunt a stand called Fiddler’s Green. After seeing the deer disappear from every stand, we figured it was still the best choice.

I carefully climbed into the stand with my .270, getting settled while Court closed the door, when the flash of white antlers caught the corner of my eye. I pointed just as a buck disappeared into some trees, poised to enter the open pasture in front of us.

“There’s a buck over there!” I whispered, hurriedly getting settled. The rain had finally stopped, so I wouldn’t waste an opportunity.

Sure enough, a mature 8-point buck with bright white antlers trotted out into the field. His nose and tongue tasted the air, his ears flicking in every direction searching for one thing, and one thing only; a hot doe. As he stood broadside, Court and I struggled to get a good look at this antlers, which would determine if he was a legal buck in Goliad county.

In Texas, there are many counties with antler restrictions put in place to help encourage deer to grow larger before they’re harvested. Typically, this means the inside spread needs to be 13″, or roughly just outside the ears.

With this deer’s sparky, excited ears dancing in every direction, there was no way to tell at first. He trotted around the feeder with his nose out in front of him like a puppy smelling out a treat. Every time he looked at us, his ears folded back.

Finally, he looked directly away from me and brought his ears forward. My shoulders slumped a little; I still couldn’t tell. At first glance, he appeared legal, but were his ears within the inside or outside spread?

Before either of us could make a determination, he scampered through the trees and out of view. As soon as the pasture stilled again, I couldn’t help but smile. In all my years of hunting so far, I’ve never experienced a deer rutting this much, and it made for an exciting moment.

I settled the rifle back down on the floor next to me. At the end of the day, it was always better to make the conservative choice than potentially make an illegal harvest. But Sparky, as I’ve dubbed this 8-point, would haunt me.

45 minutes later, the feeder went off in front of us. With the rain finally gone and the sound of flying corn echoing across the property, it wasn’t long before a small 10-point trotted down the road towards us. His little basket rack was far from legal, but I held onto hope that maybe his big brother would appear.

Small ten point buck standing underneath the feeder — Here is the little ten-pointer; it’s hard to tell from this angle, but he’s definitely too narrow in the spread.

Instead, a doe and a yearling carefully snuck into the field from behind us, both of them warily watching the young buck munch on corn. A gentle breeze wafted past the doe and straight into the face of the buck. Like a hunting dog zeroing in on a scent, his head shot up and he stared straight at the doe.

A mature doe and her yearling standing in a road and looking around at their surroundings

Corn forgotten, the young buck pranced through the tall grass towards her in full sneak. She danced away, clearly annoyed by his advances. When he got closer, he lapped at the air with his tongue and grunted loudly at the doe. Much to his dismay, she was not interested.

A whitetail buck bent over chasing a doe through the tall grass; the doe is looking back at him — He was really into this doe!

Eventually, they all circled back to the feeder and continued the dance of the rut as the sun slowly sank. I had never had the chance to see this kind of behavior and I was intrigued. You read about the rut and watch it in all the major hunting shows, but I had never had the opportunity to watch it live.

It’s one of the things I love most about hunting; getting to see into the wild world of these animals. Some of my favorite moments have been like these, catching a snapshot of what they must do and how they must live.

This is just a short snippet of the whole exchange, but we had so much fun watching these deer! If you listen, you can hear him grunting the whole time!

As we climbed out of the stand, I felt a new kind of calm slipping over me. Even though everything seemed to be going wrong with our hunting plans this weekend, we were still enjoying time in nature and experiencing deer in a way that most people never do.

A tiny voice in the back of my mind still whispered, “The big nine might be out there! He might come out tomorrow, he has to!”

I just wasn’t so sure of anything except that nothing was certain when it came to nature.

a trail camera picture of a large buck standing underneath a feeder with his head up looking around — The nine-pointer that haunted my dreams on this hunt

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Food, Family, and Football

Thanksgiving has different meanings to many different people.

For me, it meant cool, autumn days spent in the quiet of my grandparents’ home on the North Hill of Prague, Oklahoma. Their little acreage was nestled between farmland and open pastures of quiet cattle grazing or basking in the sun. Grandma and Grandpa would have harvested a lot of vegetables from their large garden by now, and the leaves would gleam vibrant reds, glowing golds, and warm oranges.

After a busy morning of cooking in the kitchen, the house would quickly fill up with family from all over the area bringing their own dishes to set up for the feast. Over a delicious lunch made up of family recipes and traditions, the family would catch up; who moved where, who got a new job doing what, who just got married, who just had a kid (and pictures of said kid), who was just starting school where, etc.

All of these people from all over the country were brought together for one meal. And in that meal, they would bring their traditions and successes. They would bring Great Aunt’s sweet potato recipe, or make Great Great Grandma’s stuffing recipe. You couldn’t divert from Auntie’s carrots recipe, it just wouldn’t taste the same. In one meal, the past and present collided in a beautiful celebration of life and family.

A couple of years ago, Thanksgiving also took on a new meaning for me.

My husband, Court, and I brought wild turkey breast up for our small gathering during Thanksgiving of 2020. We had carefully smoked the day before, then brought it up in a cooler so that my family could experience wild turkey for the first time.

When we served it up on the big day, I couldn’t help the joy and pride that I felt as we all quickly devoured the turkey (kudos to my husband, he really outdid himself!). I remembered, maybe a week before, harvesting those turkeys with Court. They had wandered into a feeder where we were deer hunting, and in Texas, it was still rifle season for fall turkeys.

These turkeys would affectionately become known as the Matrix turkeys, but that’s a story for another time!

Since then, we have served up our harvests for other friends and family, too. We’ve made baked Redfish on the half shell, grilled venison backstrap, smoked trout, smoked venison roasts, grilled steaks, dove/duck jalapeno poppers, redfish throat poppers, and probably more that I can’t even remember.

Wild turkey tacos with cilantro, shredded cheese, on a tortilla

venison ossu bucco with a tomato sauce resting on discs of polenta

And each time we get to share these meals with people we care about, it feels like Thanksgiving all over again. People gathering over a meal that we made, field to table.

What I love about the outdoors industry is that this is a huge part of the culture. When you are blessed with such abundance, it’s hard not to want to share it.

It’s a beautiful thing to me that somewhere deep in our nature, next to the primitive desire and need to hunt our food, is also the desire to share and care for each other.

This year, I’ll wake up on Thanksgiving morning in the sleepy college town of Lawrence, Kansas. Our gathering will be smaller, but still full of love and food. We’ll start the cooking early in the morning, all of us chopping or stirring with one hand and gratefully sipping coffee from the other.

There will be venison on the menu from Texas, and plenty of traditional recipes from Oklahoma and Virginia. There will be football on tv until the Rockettes perform, and then serious discussions about the college football playoffs. And over an enormous holiday lunch, we’ll exchange smiles and catch up on everything that’s happened in the last year.

Some things change, but Thanksgiving will always be the same in my heart; food, family, and football.

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First Blood: Part 3

Be sure to catch up on Part 1 and Part 2.

The woods around us were completely silent and still.

I avoided looking at the ground as much as I could while also scanning for any movement among the trees. The chilly October air was heavy with the colors of fall. Every sound was magnified in the stillness around us.

The tree stand was probably meant for one person to sit comfortably, but Court, my boyfriend, and I had to cuddle up close to fit. I didn’t really mind that part, honestly…

Every once in awhile, I would hear steps through the crispy leaves littering the ground. My heart would start to race, and I would tighten my grip on my rifle.

The steps would get closer… and closer… until they were right below us… and…

It was a squirrel.

To this day, I am amazed how a tiny squirrel can sound like a deer barreling through the woods.

Several squirrels later, the sun was starting to crawl towards the horizon. The familiar feeling of will we or won’t we began to set in; by now, I had accompanied Court on many bow hunts and learned that just because you’re hunting doesn’t mean you’ll see anything. This would be a lesson I learned even more when we moved to Texas.

We could still hunt at the shop if it didn’t happen this weekend, but there was a greater chance at a doe here in the woods. Our friend that owned the place only went out a few times a year, so the deer were mostly undisturbed, unlike the shop deer.

He had seen a lot of does passing through the area on trail cameras and felt confident that one of them would visit us this weekend.

Sure enough, I heard another squirrel barreling through the forest again. Except… this time, it sounded different… maybe a little quieter…

From our right, two large mature does wandered under the tree stand with a yearling straggling behind. My heart pounded harder than ever as Court helped me shift the rifle into a shooting position.

Every part of me shook; my hands, arms, shoulders, legs, ankles, feet, even my jaw shook. I fought to inhale any oxygen, to get my lungs to breathe. I just knew that those deer could hear my body malfunctioning as I attempted to calm myself.

I angled the rifle down towards the ground and saw only leaves. I kept angling it down, down, down… no use. The deer were so close to the tree that I couldn’t aim and rest the rifle on the tree stand.

“Can you see them in the scope?” Court whispered.

I gulped. “No, they’re too close, all I see is leaves…”

Court carefully put an arm around my waist and hoisted me up onto his lap so I could angle the gun further down. Suddenly, the scope was filled with brown fur. “Can you see them now?“ I was so breathless that I’m amazed he even heard my yes.

“Aim for the biggest one, the one in the middle.” I carefully shifted the scope to figure out which one was I was already looking at. Okay, move to the right, and there’s another one… move a little further, and there’s the yearling. Alright, swing it back to the first one.

I got the first doe back into my sites, but now she was quartering towards me. “Wait until she’s completely broadside…” I took the moment to attempt to control my breathing; it almost worked. Slowly, so slowly, she turned to face the other two deer.

“Whenever you’re ready, take the shot.”

I settled the crosshairs onto her shoulder, but with each squeeze of my lungs, the crosshairs jerked in a thousand different directions. I desperately sought the calm sensation that I felt immediately after stepping onto stage, the moment of no turning back. No matter how afraid you are, the moment you take that first step, you’ve accepted what comes next. There’s a peace in that moment, if only I could find it.

Somewhere in the periphery, Court was whispering encouragement again as the seconds ticked by. The doe stood completely still from the neck down as she munched peacefully on corn. It was now or never.

I forced the oxygen from my lungs and felt that moment of stillness at the very end of a deep exhale. My finger slowly squeezed the trigger in an achingly slow movement. I began to wonder if the rifle would go off at all, maybe…

BOOM!

I didn’t even recognize that the gun had gone off for a moment. I sat staring into the kicked up leaves through my scope where the doe had been as hell broke loose beneath us. The other two deer sped through the trees until they vanished.

My ears rang and my body shook violently as I slowly took note of what was happening around me. Court was congratulating me as he took the rifle from my hands, discharging the brass and pocketing it before putting the safety back on.

I felt dazed, as if the adrenaline in my body had taken my consciousness with it when it finally left. I barely remember following Court along a visible blood trail past a few trees and to the top of a hill.

At some point, I became vaguely aware that I was speaking; “did I make a good shot? Did I actually shoot her?” My supportive and loving mentor was smiling, reassuring me that it was a great hit.

Sure enough, she had just crested the hill not 100 yards from our tree stand when it ended for her. Looking back as an experienced hunter, I know it was as humane a shot as I could’ve hoped for.

Seeing the doe on the ground froze me in my tracks. Court wandered down a little ways to get to her, calling out some warnings of slick ground or rocks so I wouldn’t fall trying to follow. When I finally sunk to the ground next to her, I was filled with so many emotions that it’s hard to really articulate how I felt.

Shock. Accomplishment. Sorrow. Uncertainty. Fear. Compassion. Wonder. Guilt. I rested a tentative hand on the smooth fur.

I had taken a life. And I didn’t know how I felt about it.

The entire way home and into the night, I struggled to articulate for myself what I was feeling. Watching Court and our friend quarter out the deer for more processing the next day had confused me even more. If you’ve never seen an animal butchered for meat before, it can be pretty unsettling the first time.

I felt good about trying something new and for making it as quick for the doe as possible. I also felt guilty and unsure of even doing it in the first place, though. After learning from Court, I understood why he hunts; not to kill, but to be outdoors and to enjoy the sustenance that comes from the animals he harvests. But why should I hunt if he can do that? Why should I kill an animal?

Court must have sensed my uncertainty. I woke the next morning to the most heavenly smell wafting through the apartment from the kitchen. I trudged through the chilly hallway towards the delicious smell of spices and cooking eggs until I found him in the kitchen, already working on breakfast.

He smiled. “I’m making you a very special breakfast today.” I smiled and settled down on the couch, clicking through the channels for something to watch.

He handed me a plate of delicately scrambled eggs and small, red meat cutlets carefully seasoned and cooked up in butter. It smelled amazing. I sliced into the cutlet with a small bite of egg and took a bite.

Oh. My. Goodness.

I didn’t know what kind of steak this was after a quick taste, but it was so tender and flavorful. “Do you like it?” He asked with a sneaky smile.

“It’s so good!” I dug in a little faster.

“Good.” He pointed to the steak. “That is a tenderloin from your doe.”

I paused thoughtfully. “This is from the doe I… the doe I shot yesterday?” A new feeling was welling up inside of me as I considered what was happening; pride.

How many times had we eaten some kind of wild game and Court could remember the exact animal and hunting experience that it had come from? And now, as I ate the meat on my plate, I felt a spur of pride knowing that I had made this meal possible. Through my hard work and patience, this breakfast had happened.

What if the real reason that some people hunt is to do exactly this? To put good, healthy, all natural food on the table for the people they care about? To provide? I had never felt this way about anything before, and being able to provide for someone that I love felt good.

When I first considered the possibility of hunting, killing was the part I thought about the most. At that time, “hunting” was almost synonymous with “killing” in my mind. After that first experience, though, I’ve realized that hunting is something so much more.

You have to learn about and respect the animals that you’re hunting. You have to train and practice to be able to make an ethical lethal shot. And even when you finally see them, they may not even give you the chance to take a shot. But when the opportunity arrives, you have to do everything in your power to make the best shot that you can. The real work and reward begins after the shot, though. Processing the animal takes time and effort that you can almost taste when you finally get to enjoy the fruits of your labor with friends and family.

As I munched on my venison tenderloin that morning, I truly realized that hunting is about working with Mother Nature to provide for the people you love most.

jessica holding up a doe in the middle of the woods

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First Blood: Part 2

girl holding rifle and cardboard deer in a field

If you haven’t yet, catch up on Part 1!

Everything I ever knew about myself was wrong.

I never wanted to be outside. Not to read, certainly not to dance, and definitely not to hunt or fish. I just didn’t want to get dirty, honestly. What was the point?

But after that first hunt, I had weathered crawling through the mud, sitting in the dirt, and waiting in the chilly September rain of West Virginia. And for some reason, I was desperate to do it all again.

What if the deer got closer this time?

What if a buck walked out?

What if the weather was calmer, the ground less muddy?

Would the fresh air be as soothing as I imagine?

And there was always the next question; what if Court shot a deer? How would I react?

I watched the hunting shows on the Outdoors Channel with him constantly, dancing around the real question I always had about hunting; how would I feel about the killing? How would I feel about seeing someone pull the trigger?

The question that started to take root, though was this; how would I feel pulling the trigger?

Could I stomach taking the life of a deer? Could I even do it, the physical action of squeezing the trigger? What would I think of myself? What would others think of me?

These questions started rattling around in my mind until I knew there was only way to find out; I would need to try it. To really try hunting for the first time.

Of course, my boyfriend (now husband), Court, was over the moon when I told him I wanted to try it. He proudly took on the role of my mentor and we started training right away; rifle season was only a few weeks away!

A few days later, we marched out to the same flat where we had been hunting and set up a target. Court had gone over where to aim and how to handle the gun thousands of time with me leading up to this, but holding a rifle and aiming at a target was something else.

This wasn’t my first time shooting a gun, not even a rifle, but it felt more important than ever that I master it. While thinking about the killing part of hunting, I had made up my mind that the only way I would feel better about it is making a clean, ethical shot. I would do everything in my power to make sure that the animal didn’t suffer.

I settled onto the little stool and braced the rifle on a small table. The youth model Remington 700 .243 felt surprisingly right in my hands as I settled my cheek against the stock. This was Court’s first hunting rifle growing up, and I prayed that some of his experience and luck with this rifle would carry over to me.

After a moment of carefully shifting the barrel of the rifle, my scope finally settled on a little cardboard buck about 50 yards away. I placed the crosshairs carefully behind the shoulder, as instructed.

I focused on calming my breathing… exhaling completely… then squeezing the trigger…

BOOM!

The rifle jumped in my hands and startled me. I looked at Court and just started laughing. Surely that shot was as terrible as it felt.

We started walking towards the little cardboard buck. “Did it surprise you when it went off?”

“Yes! Ugh, that was such a terrible shot.”

“Not necessarily, it’s good that it surprised you when it went off; that means you didn’t anticipate it and pull the shot. Look.” By now, we had reached the target and he pointed to a little hole a little ways behind the shoulder. That wasn’t so bad, I thought, surprised that I actually hit the thing.

“Let’s do a few more, and then we’ll try it a little further back.”

A few more rounds of shooting and scooting the target back, we packed it up for the day. My shots weren’t always perfect, but they tightened up the longer we shot and for once, I felt a little bit confident in my shooting skills.

I told Court so as we loaded into his truck and headed home. He smiled at me. “Good! Just remember, things will be different when you’re aiming at a deer.”

I gulped, not surprised. It was the difference between rehearsals and performances; no matter how much you practiced and rehearsed, the performance always felt different. Scarier, and maybe a little less controlled.

Oddly enough, my years of dance training might give me an edge as a hunter! I was used to dealing with adrenaline and controlling my breathing as I twirled across the stage and occasionally managed to hit some high notes in front of a crowd. Maybe, just maybe, is could do this…

I wouldn’t have to wonder for long; Court made a deal with a friend to go hunting at his place in a week. It was time to find out if I really had what it takes.

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First Blood: Part 1

My body trembled as I settled the rifle in front of me. Even after years spent twirling precariously in pointe shoes on stage, I couldn’t remember feeling this much adrenaline pulsing through my veins.

The scope shook with my hands as I struggled to settle the crosshairs on the doe’s shoulder.

“Take your time; whenever you’re ready, exhale and squeeze the trigger.” My boyfriend (now husband), Court, whispered from behind me. Sitting on his lap in a tiny tree stand several feet off the ground wasn’t helping my nerves.

The old doe stood placidly below us, somehow unable to hear my heart thundering in my ears. Eventually, I managed to squeeze the air out of my lungs, settle the crosshairs where I wanted, and slowly squeeze my finger around the trigger…

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

This story actually started about two months before this single moment at the Planet Fitness in Bridgeport, West Virginia. I struggled along on my treadmill while next to me, Court ran casually to finish his daily 5K. On my tiny tv, I attempted to lose myself in an episode of South Park or something; it didn’t work.

“Deer season is coming up,” Court said, pointing to his screen. Somewhere in Kansas, the featured hunter on the Outdoor Channel was holding up a monstrous whitetail buck with antlers that could’ve passed for tree branches.

In all the time we had been together, I knew that hunting was a big part of his life and childhood. He was a passionate outdoorsman, and I certainly didn’t mind enjoying the venison he brought home from the field.

“That’s exciting!” I managed through my labored breathing.

He paused a moment, as if considering his next words. “What would you think about hunting with me? Just to try it, you don’t have to shoot or anything.”

I could feel my eyes widen. Me, out in the woods?

I didn’t like doing stuff outside. Ever. I grew up wearing pink satin, sequins, rhinestones, fluffy tulle, and shiny pointe shoes inside a very nicely climate controlled and clean dance studio. When I wasn’t doing ballet, I was curled up somewhere with a book inside.

This girl did not do outside.

I thought back to the dance performances, singing shows, and recitals he had watched me in without a single complaint. Not even once. If he could support me doing the thing I loved most, then I could at least try hunting. At the very least, it would be an informative and educational experience to help me get to know this man even better.

“Sure!” I managed. “Why not?” He immediately beamed at me and started telling me all about hunting and the bow season that was nearly upon us. The more he described hunting and everything that goes into preparation, practice, and then actually hunting, I felt a thrill of excitement. At the very least, my first hunting experience would be interesting.

September in West Virginia meant rain and cool weather. A gentle drizzle speckled my windshield as I pulled up the shop where he worked; our hunting area was further up the mountain away from the equipment and buildings. I sent a quick text; here.

While waiting, I quickly pulled on some hand-me-down camouflage over my dance clothes. Before braving the weather, I checked my phone and saw his response.

There’s a doe here; come up slowly, stay low, and stay as quiet as you can.

I left my phone in the car and started creeping up the hill. The rain had turned the hillside into a muddy mess, but I crawled low on my hands and knees to avoid detection. Normally, I avoided mud and dirt in general, but if I was going to hunt, I was really to try. Crawl through the mud; check.

By the time I crawled to the bush where Court waited, I was damp and covered in mud. I slowly settled myself onto the ground next to him, anxious to see this doe and… no doe.

“Where’s the doe?” I whispered.

“She wandered off a little while ago, sorry,” he whispered back. He handed me the range finder and showed me how to use it. My job today would be to range deer for him.

I settled onto the cold, damp ground as best as I could, carefully arranging the leaves in front of me so that I could see and range around them while remaining somewhat hidden. Sit in the rain on the ground in a bush; check.

“I’m sorry about the rain,” Court whispered. “I haven’t been able to get a blind yet, but maybe we can get one set up for next time.” His eyes betrayed his worry, and it occurred to me that he might be nervous about me being there, just like I was nervous the first time he came to watch me dance. “I hope you’re having fun.”

I smiled at him. “It’s definitely been an experience so far,” I whispered back.

Suddenly, three does wandered into the grass in front of us. They walked so carefully through the grass, picking their way with a delicate grace. Growing up in Kansas, I had seen a lot of deer; they’re literally everywhere.

But it wasn’t until I was sitting in that cold September rain that I really watched them. The way their ears flicked in each direction as they nibbled the grasses. The way their fluffy white tails waggled every once in awhile. Their deliberate and quiet steps through the tangle of grasses. The tinges of gray in their smooth brown fur. The watchfulness in their gleaming black eyes as they surveyed the quiet flat around them.

Court’s whisper stirred me from my reverie. “How far are they?” I startled a little at realizing how close they were. Like, I could see the finer details that made each doe unique. I slowly started to raise the range finder. They were getting closer, surely they were in bow range by now.

I watched in wonder as the deer wandered closer. There’s something about the absence of a barrier in between that makes them feel so much closer than the animals at the zoo or in the back yard. For just a moment, I felt like I was a part of their world.

The one closest to me froze and stared deep into my eyes. My entire body froze in response, a primitive reaction I had never felt before. Caught. As I stared into those dark eyes, I didn’t feel the rain drops on my cheek. I didn’t feel the cold, hard ground underneath me. I didn’t even feel the range finder in my shaking hand.

“Don’t move,” Court whispered from somewhere behind me.

The doe suddenly pawed at the ground, her eyes growing fiercer as she looked into mine. In that moment, I knew she had looked into my soul, and she didn’t like what she saw.

With one more huff at us, she turned on her hoof with all the sass of a hair flip and bounded away, her companions trailing closely behind her.

Suddenly, I felt the rain, the hard ground, and plastic range finder again. I turned to look at Court, both of our eyes wide at the encounter. “That was really cool,” I whispered.

The rain picked up, and we abandoned our mission for the day. As we walked down the muddy slope, I couldn’t shake the wonder of what I had just experienced. For just a moment, we were in a completely different world and my mind was working to make sense of everything that had just happened.

Almost sheepishly, Court asked, “so, what do you think; would you go again?”

I giggled at my damp, muddy clothes and rain spattered hair. Never in a million years did I think I would want to do this.

“Absolutely!” I said.

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Smoked Speckled Trout

After trying this recipe on the rainbows we caught last summer, my husband and I knew we would have to try it with our own speckled trout.

But how would it taste? Though they’re all trout, those salty specks are just different from their rainbow cousins!

After months of going back and forth about it, we finally decided to try smoked speckled trout and ended up with some surprising results. But don’t take my word for it; check out the latest on my YouTube channel!

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The Drought

Just when the fishing seemed like it was heating up for the summer, the fish disappeared.

Gone.

But where could they have gone? And why? We were dealing with unusual heat, a two month drought, and extremely low water levels in the Laguna.

But it just didn’t add up.

Over the course of three separate trips, my husband, his buddy, and I would brave the scorching weather and poor conditions in search of fish…

Check it out at the link below, and don’t forget to subscribe!

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Coastal Fishing Ride or Die Gear: DSG Fish Edition!

With one glance at my Instagram profile, you might notice some recurring gear on the boat… and it’s not an accident!

I’ve been so blessed to be a ProStaffer for DSG Fish this summer and have so enjoyed getting to try some gear made by women for women. (Sorry to my dudes who tuned in for this post, but maybe keep in mind for the fishing ladies in your life? They would be impressed.)

I think most lady anglers have the same complaints about the majority of the selection of women’s fishing (and outdoors in general!) clothing on the market;

It doesn’t really fit! (It’s either way too big or way too small. Sigh.)
And if it does, it’s probably pink. (I don’t dislike pink, but we like other colors, too, y’all!)
General lack of utility. (Yes, I mean the pockets. WHO PUTS FAKE POCKETS ON HUNTING PANTS.)

Well.

I can honestly say that this company makes clothing that looks great and performs great. They thought of the feminine form when designing the clothes and the outdoors utility when choosing fabrics, prints, and features.

And yes, there are POCKETS!!

I did an entire video dedicated to trying on their summer line (you can watch that here), but that was before getting to actually wear them on a fishing trip. Here on the coast, the saltwater is especially brutal on fishing gear and has some unique requirements compared to our freshwater friends up North, so I wanted to share my ride or die picks with you!

1. Sydney Realtree Aspect™ Camo Shirt

girl holding a trout on a boat in shorts and a hat

This is hands down my FAVORITE shirt from the entire line! Like almost all of their fishing products, it has UPF 50+ for sun and heat protection. It’s also a super soft, lightweight material and the cut is super flattering.

I love this especially for fishing on the coast because of the sun and the heat. In the full sun on the hottest days yet this summer, it’s protected my skin and helped me to stay cool (and I’m really susceptible to the heat!).

It retails for $44.99 and has a wide variety of color options! I’m wearing a small in the Ocean Spray color; check it out here!

2. Leggings – UPF 30+

girl in fishing gear holding up redfish on a boat

These were my favorite bottoms that we got! They’re super lightweight, feature UPF 30+, and are super comfortable. (Plus, they make my legs look good lol…)

I love these for some of the same reasons I love the Sydney shirt, with the heat and sun protection always being #1 for me. But ladies they have POCKETS!! Like put a pair of pliers in your pocket-sized pockets! They also have a nifty little clip on the left hip that I like to use for fish rags, too.

They retail for $49.99, with a variety of colors available! I’m wearing a small in the Sea Foam Realtree Aspect™ Camo; check them out here!

3. Juniper Hooded Shirt

girl holding a fish in fishing gear on a boat

This one is very similar the Sydney shirt above, but it also features a hood and thumb holes; it has UPF 50+ and is noticeably thicker than the one above.

I like this one a lot for fishing on cooler days and in the early spring, though it does get a little hot for the really hot days that we’ve had lately! That being said, if you’re not into wearing gators or tend to forget yours, the hood is really nice for getting the sun off your neck! (Ask me how I know!)

This one retails for $49.99 and also comes in a lot of colors! I’m wearing a small in the Key West color (which is my favorite color scheme of them al in this line!); check it out here!

4. Jenny Dock Shorts

girl in fishing gear holding up a trout on a boat

These shorts are AMAZING!! I’ve never had real fishing/outdoors shorts before, and these are so incredible. The material is UPF 50+ and super lightweight, though not quite as stretchy as the leggings above.

What really made these special for me were the details. Besides a button and zipper, it has a drawstring so that if you have a bigger booty (like me!), you can make the waist actually fit. It also has great sized pockets and loops on the side for pliers, tackle, or a fishing rag apparently! I love them so much.

These retail for $49.99 and come in three different colors that coordinate well with other gear. I got a small in the taupe (and will probably snag a navy pair someday, too!); check it out here!

Keep in mind that these four items work best for where I’m located, here on the Gulf Coast way South in Texas; they have gear for all climates and temperatures available from sizes XX-Small to 3XL!

My overall impression of this entire line comes down to three words; fashion and function. FOR ONCE we get to wear fishing clothing that not only has utility, but also looks great and is feminine. I’m just so in-love!

But don’t just take my word for it, check out the entire line here!

Tight lines, y’all!

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Babes on the Bay

What happens when you get me, my Mother-In-Law, and hubby’s Great Aunt on a boat together?

We catch a crap ton of fish.

My husband’s family has been on the water through the generations, and getting to spend any time on a boat with these ladies is always a treat!

So how many fish do you think we can catch in just a few hours? Check out the latest video on my YouTube channel, Jess in the Outdoors, to find out!

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Back to the Laguna

Better late than never getting this shared to my blog, right?! It’s been a busy summer with lots of weekends full of sunlight, saltwater, and fishing.

With tournaments and client trips coming up soon, my Coast Guard Certified Captain husband set out with me for some pre-fishing early in the season to get an idea of what to expect on the water.

The effects of last year’s freeze on this year’s fish was still unknown, and it was anybody’s guess what we might find out there this season.

Either way, I think I can speak for both of us when I say that we were anxious to be back on the water doing what we do best.

You can catch the entire experience on my YouTube channel, Jess in the Outdoors!

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Catching Reds with Captain Jack

The sun was just rising over the water as we pulled up to our spot. Saharan Dust left a film in the air, as if we were looking around through foggy lenses. A small breeze was all that stirred the shallow water around us and the heat of the day felt far away.

My father-in-law, Captain Jack, had invited me to go fishing today for some red fish in his super secret spot and I was excited to get back on the water. Of all the saltwater inshore fish, red fish (or red drum) are some of the most prized for their size, fight, and flaky fillets.

But catching these golden beauties is easier said than done.

Their smaller and slightly more aggressive inshore neighbor, speckled trout, will go after all kinds of bait; shrimp, croaker, artificials, you name it! As if they know they’re highly sought after, the reds tend to be a bit pickier.

After all, why chase a shrimp under a popping cork when you’ve got tiny blue crabs waiting in the sand pockets for you?

Rocking the Mullet

In the early summer, one of the most effective ways to catch red fish is using cut mullet. You can buy mullet from most bait shops and simply cut it up into chunks. It’s economical because you can use the same piece of bait multiple times, even if you catch a fish! (I caught two on the same piece of bait today!)

A school of mullet fish swirling around in green water — Mullet swirling around in the water; they’re the ones you might see leaping out of the waves sometimes!

As we slowed to a stop on the water, Captain Jack bypassed the fishing rods behind us for a cast net instead. Because fresh bait is always best, why not catch our own?

With the rising sun and clear water, we were easily able to see the small schools of mullet meandering through the sand pockets near the boat. When the timing was right, he quickly tossed out the cast net and brought it back in.

Like most prey animals, the mullet were ready to flee at any sign of predators (including cast nets, apparently) and it took a couple of tries before we had a handful in the boat ready to go.

If you don’t have easy access to a cast net or schools of mullet, though, most bait shops along the coast will carry dead mullet that you can cut into chunks.

And Now, We Wait

With bait ready, we eased into the actual fishing spot using the trolling motor on the boat so as not scare off any fish.

At this point in fishing for trout, we’d be tossing popping corks or croaker in the water to pop, reel, and recast until we hooked a fish. For red fish, we simply baited a hook for a bottom rig, cast out to a big sand pocket, and then put the rod in a rod holder.

Fishing rod in a rod holder on the boat with the sun rising over the water in the background

That’s it.

No poppin’, twitchin’, nudgin’, reelin’, hook settin’, dartin’, bumpin’, nothin’.

Because while we’re waiting on the boat watching the rods, the red fish are cruising the sand pockets nosing around for blue crab, sand eels, and any other bait that might catch their eye. And when that red fish bumps into a free meal of juicy, cut up mullet, they’re going to smack it when they’re good and ready.

Drag Racing

You’ll know the moment the red fish smacks the bait because that rod will bend completely in half with the drag screaming like an alarm bell. “Fish on! Fish on!”

This is when the real fight begins.

The red fish didn’t waste any time pulling drag as we raced to the front of the boat. Captain Jack coached me to keep the rod tip up, reel in the slack, and set the hook while he quickly reeled in the other line.

The fish didn’t give me a moment of mercy; as soon as I set the hook, he took off again with a mighty whip of his tail on the surface. I gritted my teeth in a ferocious smile; this was going to be a feisty one.

As soon as the drag stopped pulling, I started reeling with everything I had. With each of turn of the handle, I could feel the fish straining back against me. Though only a minute or so had passed, my arms burned in the effort just to keep reeling.

Suddenly the line went slack; the fish was swimming right at the boat! I reeled as hard and fast as I could, doing everything I could to keep tension on the line as he flew toward the boat at full speed. Just as he gave us a glimpse of fiery golden scales, he turned tail with a hiss of the drag back away from the boat.

And so we found a rhythm in our fight for a minute or so. He’d pull the drag, then I’d reel him in a little closer until he was suddenly right at the side of the boat. Captain Jack quickly caught him up in the net and brought him into the boat with a thick thunk.

The Five Year Fish

I knew with just a glance that this was easily one of the largest red fish I’d ever caught. A year ago, I had pulled in two 28 inchers within minutes of each other, right at the top of the legal slot in the state of Texas; anything larger than 28 inches has to be released or tagged by purchasing a tag. As the gentle morning sunlight glistened off his sides, I knew he’d be close.

We laid him out on the ruler and I couldn’t help my gasp.

28 and three quarter inches.

Somehow, it had finally happened. After five years of looking, hooking, and losing, I had finally caught an oversized red fish. After five years of watching friends and family catch oversized redfish, I had finally caught mine.

We took some quick pictures and then released him safely back into the water to grow even bigger.

But if I’ve learned anything from fishing with Captain Jack and my husband, Court, it’s that fishing for red fish is a game of patience. And with enough patience, you’ll find yourself in a fight against the laguna’s most notorious game fish.

Jess holding up large redfish on a boat inshore

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Chasing Turkeys One Last Time

After a few weeks in between, we finally made it out to the ranch for the final days of spring turkey season in South Texas!

Despite the blistering heat and ferocious wind, we were hopeful that this would be the weekend when we could finally connect with a turkey.

There was one caveat, though; for the first half of the weekend, I would also be performing 45 minutes away in a ballet production!

Talk about an unusual way to enjoy both of your hobbies at the same time…

As the final notes of Sleeping Beauty and phantom gobbles faded into the silence, I can honestly say that it was a fitting end to a great spring season of tutus and turkeys.

You can catch the entire experience on my YouTube channel, Jess in the Outdoors!

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Texas Spring Thunder: The Beginning of Two New Passions

I’ve missed y’all! Life changes and exciting new adventures indoors have prevented me from posting lately, but I’m back and better than ever!

Nearly a year ago, I was encouraged by some friends online to try videoing my outdoors adventures to share on YouTube; after a couple of tentative attempts, I finally decided to go all-in.

Thus, my YouTube channel was born! There are so many things I would already do differently, including adding some new gear to my arsenal, and I can’t wait to learn and share more.

At the same time that I filmed my first video, I also fell in love with hardcore, walk-all-day-and-hear-nothing turkey hunting. It’s some of the hardest hunting I’ve done in my entire life, and I loved every minute of it.

Many experienced outdoorsmen and women have kind of joked about turkey hunters being a different breed, but now I completely get it.

But don’t just take my word for it; watch the video below!

If you ever have any ideas for videos or anything you’d like to see, let me know! And to all my other turkey hunters out there, good luck; we’re going to need it!

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The Spike that Won the Buckmaster

Once upon a time…

There was a family that passed the outdoors tradition from generation to generation. Though jobs, college, marriage, and other life adventures had scattered them across the country (even the world at times!), one thing could always bring them back together; deer season.

This admiration and passion for the outdoors quickly inspired a new tradition for the family in 1993; the Buckmaster Competition.

Every deer season, the hunters of the family would venture into the woods to harvest a buck, and at the end of that season, the hunter with the most points would be the victor. There were rules on how the deer and hunters were scored in a way to encourage ethical hunting activity.

After discussion and addendums over the years, the scoring criteria includes:

Each hunter’s score will include the gross measurements of their largest buck of the season, two times the number of tines/points from each buck, and points for archery deer.
Any deer harvested via a bow (any legal means during archery season) will earn 10 extra points (antlered or antlerless).
The hunter with the highest score at the end of the season is the winner.

For example; if I harvested two 8-point bucks with a rifle and a doe with a bow, my score would be 110 (gross measurement of my largest buck) + 16 (for one 8-pointer) + 16 (for the other) + 10 (for my archery doe) = 152 points total.

Harvesting the largest buck of the season is never a guarantee of a win, and in the end, it’s usually the most well-rounded hunter of the year that takes the grand prize.

Each reigning Buckmaster is responsible for adding photos to the book from the season and then choosing a knife to bestow to the next Buckmaster.

The year my husband and I started dating, he had just been crowned the new Buckmaster. We poured over the book one night as he reminisced about hunts and deer from years passed. Each page held precious memories and indescribable moments of triumph as family members explored the outdoors.

This rich tradition had been one more reason to get together to celebrate, and even though I wasn’t a hunter at the time, I could appreciate that.

By the time we got married, he had been mentoring me as a hunter and angler for almost two years, and I was already hooked. Being in the stand or on the boat was something we did together, an experience that we would always share. Those moments in nature together are still some of my favorite.

I suppose it shouldn’t have surprised me, but sprinkled in with the “when are you going to have babies?!” question was, “Jessica, when are you going to be the first female Buckmaster?”

I looked up to these experienced outdoorsmen, and I could hardly imagine ever winning. At first. But I gave it my best shot. Literally.

Fast Forward: 2019 Deer Season

At this point in my hunting career, I had the caught the fever. The Buckmaster fever. I had been asked about it to the point that I was anxious to make it happen.

I started that deer season with hitting a different major milestone; harvesting my first buck off of the family ranch. After trying for almost 2 years, I finally had the chance to harvest a funky 8-pointer that will forever be one of my favorites: Kicker.

For me, my season was complete. I had gotten my Goliad buck, and that was all I had wanted. Then came the opportunity to harvest my personal best, the Big Freakin’ Eight. It seemed that my moment had finally come!

Towards the end of the season, Court, my husband, was invited to a ranch and managed to harvest the largest deer in the entire family, Mexican Chocolate. As he measured his deer and added up the points, he apologized; he had finished just 12 points ahead of me.

We laugh about it still, though he felt bad at the time. It took both of us getting our personal best deer to beat each other! I shrugged it off, confident that I could make it happen in 2020.

Jessica with the B.F.E., a large whitetail buck

2020 Deer Season

This was when Big Boy started making more appearances on the family ranch, and I was determined to connect.

We went to the family ranch on three separate occasions, and it never happened. By the last hunt, I was begging for any spike or doe to appear. By then, the deer had seemingly vanished for the season.

Just when it seemed we would be one deer short, we got an invitation to harvest a management deer at the VWR Ranch. I finally received my Red Dead Redemption by harvesting an older 8-pointer.

I still look back on my 2020 deer season with a little bit of disappointment. The outdoors aren’t about winning, getting the biggest deer, or being “the best”. And that season, I allowed my competitive nature to corrupt my purpose for deer hunting.

Every time I look at him on the wall, I am determined not to fall into that trap again. Every opportunity to harvest an animal is a blessing, and shouldn’t be taken for granted. I vowed that I would never value a trophy over sustenance again.

Jessica with Redemption, her 8-point whitetail buck

2021 Deer Season

I went into this deer season with one goal; to harvest a deer with our crossbow. I very specifically hoped to have a shot at a spike so that my buck fever wouldn’t be quite so bad, and so that there would be one more doe tag at the family ranch.

With the harvest of TenPoint, my season was complete in my mind. It couldn’t get any better than finally achieving a goal I had been working towards since I started hunting.

A month later, Court put a 3-pointer from the ranch in the freezer and recovered a great 8-pointer; unfortunately, coyotes got to the buck before he did, and the meat was lost.

As we faced a venison shortage, he gifted me instead with a hunt for Christmas with our friends at the VWR Ranch. Another management buck? Let’s go!

On the first day of this year, Gnarles Barkley walked out in front of me and provided a shot at filling the freezer. My heart still races a little when I think about this hunt, and we’ve enjoyed a lot of healthy meals this month because of him.

As we waited for our ride, Court examined him closely. He wasn’t an enormous deer, but he seemed pretty comparable to the 8-pointer my husband had harvested earlier in the season.

And with only one other person in the family harvesting a buck of any kind, it looked like it had once again come down to the two of us for the win.

We started doing the math… Fourteen points for my archery spike, sixteen for my 8-pointer without any final measurements. Court would have six points for his 3-pointer, and sixteen for his 8-pointer without any final measurements.

The question was… just how close are these deer in size?

We made a deal. Court’s 8-pointer was still at the taxidermist, so we wouldn’t know the winner until we got him back. In the meantime, Court would measure my deer and keep it a secret until we could measure the mysterious 8-pointer.

Jessica with TenPoint, a whitetail spike buck

Court with Brows, a 3-point whitetail buck

Court with City Slicker, a great 8-point whitetail buck

Jessica with Gnarles Barkley, an 8-point whitetail buck

2021 Buckmaster

It was a Friday night, and we got home at the same time. I had to run off to a private lesson with one of my students, but not before I noticed Court carrying the mysterious 8-pointer’s skull in his hands.

I kissed him goodbye and knew that we would have a winner when I returned.

When I got back, he sat me down. “Now remember, between TenPoint (my archery spike) and Brows (Court’s 3-pointer), your buck needs to be within 7 inches of mine to win. Mine scored 113 7/8; yours scored 107 1/2.”

It took me a minute, my tired end-of-the-week brain trying to compute what that meant. He walked me through the math, and his deer was only 6 3/8 inches larger than mine. Which meant…

“Wait… so that means…”

“You did it. You won.”

Holy schnikies, it took me a minute to process what had happened. And I’m still processing it a little bit, honestly.

All this time, I imagined harvesting this enormous buck and that would be the moment that it all came together.

Nope.

In the end, it all came down to TenPoint. If he had been a doe, I would’ve taken second. If I hadn’t focused on my archery goal, I would’ve taken second. It didn’t take a monster buck to win; a humble little spike made all the difference.

So if you’ve learned anything from this story, I hope it’s this; the little things make all the difference in the world.

After 28 years, I am super excited to say that I’m officially the first female Buckmaster!

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Gnarles Barkley and the Hot Shot

After a fitful night’s sleep, my husband, Court, and I were back at the ranch early in the morning on New Year’s Day. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but as Justin, Court’s friend, drove the mule through the darkness, a feeling of certainty grew within me.

New Year’s Day: First Sit

This morning, we took an entirely new approach and were stationed in a new blind; the Purple Blind. We were targeting a wide 8-point with short tines that was probably 6.5 years old that would be a great management buck. We climbed into the stand and settled into the warm darkness.

To my left, a long open sendero stretched into the treeline; in front of us, a huge field opened up with a small feeder surrounded by a low fence. Behind us, there were smaller trails where deer could sneak up. The morning was cool and breezy.

With our thermal monocular, we watched as four deer immediately wandered into the senderos to snack on the corn. As the sun rose, more dark shapes entered the clearing in front of us, and it seemed as though we would have our choice in deer.

A thick-bodied deer glided into the sendero, the hint of antlers wide outside the ears barely visible in the darkness. As the morning light deepened around us, we were finally able to count the dark chocolate tines; a 10-point. Darn.

Large 10-point whitetail buck — This guy was off limits, but we enjoyed getting to watch him!

We didn’t mind getting to watch him meander among the does, gobbling up the corn.

Another buck trotted into the sendero, and this one was clearly more interested in the does. With his thin neck, long face, and skinny body, we knew right away this one was still too young. He danced around the does like a human male might swagger around a bar in the hopes of picking up a lady-friend; unfortunately for him, these girls were not interested.

Watching deer just doing their own thing is such a treat. You can start to see personalities and it captivates my imagination, wondering what their life must have been like up to this point. At some point, a busted up 6 or 8-point wandered out, saw the big 10-point and puffed up like he was looking for a fight. With his brow tines broken off and the way he threw his ears back, I wondered just how many fights he had been in during his life.

Large gnarly 8-point with his ears back standing in the grass — This guy looked like he was ready to pick a fight!

Court’s phone buzzed; again, Justin had a shooter buck at his blind. This one was a gnarly and curly-racked 8 point, extremely symmetrical and tall. Something tugged at my heart, and I joked with Court that maybe we should try to sneak over and stalk it.

Large 8-point deer looking away from camera

Eventually, the deer started to wander back into the shade as the temperature rose again. It had been another bust, but I still had a good feeling about today. I wouldn’t mind a nap and some air conditioning before the next hunt, though.

New Year’s Day: Second Sit

As we rolled up to the stand mid-afternoon, a strong feeling of optimism washed over me. The last time I had hunted this stand was the morning I saw the B.F.E. – and then brought him home.

We climbed up into the stand, the heat heavy in the air around us.

A few does immediately wandered out, but the rest of the sendero stayed quiet.

The longer we sat with minimal activity, a familiar tension wound its way through my body. That feeling uncertainty darkened my mood; what if we didn’t see anything again?

I kept thinking about that buck that Justin had seen from this stand earlier that day, with his curled antlers. If only he would walk out.

I shook off the feeling. No matter what we do, we cannot control what the animals do; they have feet, they’ll wander. This wouldn’t be our last opportunity to hunt if we went another evening without seeing anything, and I had to trust that everything would work out.

My mind and breathing settled into yogi zen-like state as I watched the does lazily meander along the line of corn in the afternoon heat. I released a deep exhale and felt something release within me.

“You know, I’ve come to terms with it; if I don’t get anything, I don’t get anything. It’ll all be okay,” I whispered.

That was when he came.

I hadn’t even registered that a mature buck had walked into the sendero when Court grabbed my shoulder; “I think that’s him!” he whispered, both of us reaching for our binoculars as quietly as we could.

One glance at his body and I knew he was a mature, shooter buck. As I studied him through the binoculars, my breath caught in my throat. It was the gnarly shooter from this morning!

Large 8-point buck looking away from camera — This buck basically recreated this exact picture when he came out, and I immediately knew!

Justin had warned us about this deer. That morning, he had only stuck around for a short time before disappearing into the brush. I was not about to waste an opportunity at this buck.

Court watched him as I quickly and carefully lifted my rifle to the window and settled in for the shot. The buck was wary of the does, barely dropping his head long enough to take a bite of corn before turning away from us to watch them.

Drop, lift and turn. Drop, lift and turn.

This feeling was all too familiar; the B.F.E. and Red Dead Redemption the last two years had tested my confidence as they meandered in and out of moments for an ethical shot.

In my mind, I swatted the doubt away; if this buck was going to be quick to move, then I would have to be ready.

The seconds stretched like hours as he slowly started to turn broadside…

I settled the crosshairs in the center of his shoulder.

He bent to tentatively take a bite of corn.

Let it kick, I thought as I exhaled quickly.

In the stillness between breaths, I squeezed the trigger.

Does scattered into the trees, and the buck crashed straight into the ground where he had stood.

With a quick intake of breath, I finally sat back away from the scope. My eyes slowly adjusted as the pent-up adrenaline started racing through my arms and legs.

Somewhere behind me, Court’s phone buzzed. I lifted up a shaky fist quick fist bump before looking back out the window.

There he was, right where he had been standing. My shaking intensified, I couldn’t believe it. Everything had happened so fast, so much faster than any other time I had taken a shot on a deer.

I checked my watch; it had maybe been 3 minutes from start to finish.

“Justin texted me, that big wide 8-point is at the same stand we hunted this morning!”

Still shaking, I shook my head in disbelief. “Well good thing this guy came out here!” Every time Justin had purposefully put us in a stand for a shot, he had ended up seeing one at whatever random stand he chose to wait in.

Luckily, this guy had decided to walk out twice today.

“Should we go look at him?” I nodded and smiled like a little kid, still shaking.

It was one thing to see him through the binoculars, and then my scope, but seeing him up close was unbelievable. I ran my hand down his gray-tinged neck, chorded muscles lean after the rut. His gnarly curled antlers proved to be beautifully symmetrical and thick as they curled out and around his head.

One thing was uncharacteristically missing, though; blood.

Typically, when a bullet goes through both shoulders, it’ll also pierce both lungs. This is a quickly fatal and ethical shot to take, and usually results in a good trail of blood to follow if the deer doesn’t immediately drop.

Jessica looking closer at the 8-point deer on the ground

We flipped him over to see the exit wound and found else; a knot towards the top of his shoulder blade. Court moved it around with his fingers. “It’s the bullet! It didn’t pass all the way through!” Taking out his pocket knife, he carefully punctured the hide and sure enough, it was the fully intact bullet.

Somehow, the bullet had managed to pierce both shoulder blades, but slowed down enough that it wasn’t able to go all the way through the hide. I pocketed the bullet with the brass casing, just one more wild thing to come out of this hunt.

It looked like our ride back to camp wouldn’t be there for about an hour, so we waited while the sun set.

At one point, Court turned to me. “So, what are you gonna name this one?”

I took the antlers in my hands again, marveling at the creature in front of me. Most of my deer had a few hunts, sightings, or something story behind their harvest. With this deer, everything had happened so fast from him walking out to me making the shot. My furthest shot to date, and with a wild surprise at the end!

“Gnarles Barkley,” I proclaimed, halfway joking. “Gnarles Barkley, the Hot Shot.”

Bless him, my husband cut up laughing. Now I appreciate some humor, but I didn’t want his name to be too goofy. The longer I thought about it, the less I liked any other names.

As I sat on the ground with Gnarles Barkley, I thought back through the past 36 hours.

Of the oppressive heat baking us in the deer blinds.

Of each time a shooter buck walked out in front of Justin, despite his best efforts to get one in front of us.

Of realizing that my .270 was not, in fact, off. It had been me all along.

Of coming to terms with the fact that sometimes, you don’t connect, but there are more opportunities.

Of the moment I had to have faith in myself and make the longest shot of my career.

And of that incredible moment of gratitude when you see that animal up close, knowing you’ve got meat for the freezer and memories forever.

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New Year, New Deer

As the 2021 deer season slowly winded down, my husband and I found ourselves with a dilemma; we were about one deer short of the venison we needed for the year.

We had been blessed during archery and early rifle season with two tender spikes, but during his last hunt, coyotes found Court’s deer first.

Jessica with a whitetail spike and crossbow

Court with a whitetail spike and his rifle

And with the end of the North region’s season closing in amid the holiday hustle and my ballet bustle, it didn’t look like we would make it to the family ranch in Goliad anytime soon.

It turned out that the VWR Ranch would be our solution.

A couple of weeks before Christmas, Court presented me with a management buck hunt at one of our favorite places to hunt. Between the friendships, community, and incredible deer there, I was beyond excited for this unexpected hunt!

We planned an end-of-year hunting weekend and started preparing.

Preparing for the Hunt

Before the hunt could begin, I had to take care of some business leftover from January of 2021; my buck, Redemption.

I learned a lot about the kind of hunter I wanted to be from last season, and Redemption has been my constant reminder ever since. As I lined up the shot on his shoulder, I was racked with emotion and fierce determination.

He fell with the pull of the trigger, but it had been a marginal shot. Hit through the spine, but it would be minutes for him instead of seconds. I still feel a little bit of shame remembering the sound of Court’s rifle as he brought about a quicker end.

I’m known to be a pretty good shot with a rifle, so the general consensus was that the rifle had been bumped and was no longer properly sited in (I’m also known to be pretty clumsy!”); so before I would take any more shots on animals with my .270, it needed to be sited in.

We set up at the rifle range, and I got ready to take my 100-yard shot. My breathing deepened, the crosshairs settling on the target… Boom!

It hit about an inch above the center of the target where I was aiming. I sagged back away from the rifle, the chip on my shoulder feeling heavier. Sure, it was a good shot, but it never been the rifle; just me.

Instead of letting the realization dampen my spirits, I used it as motivation. This year, I would set my emotions aside and focus on a clean shot.

As we walked away from the range, Justin pointed to his shoulder. “You’re anticipating that recoil, and it’s pushing your shot a little. Don’t worry about the recoil, and you got it.”

The dancer and athlete in me grinned. I haven’t always been good about keeping the emotions out, but I’ve always been good at applying critiques on form.

New Year’s Eve

We huddled up with the other hunters and started planning who would hunt which stands. In the end, we ended up back at a blind we had hunted the last time with a list of criteria to help us identify eligible deer.

Believe it or not, the B.F.E. from my last post was considered a management deer, so you can imagine how excited we were at the prospect of another big freakin’ eight. (You can read about him here!)

I’m not sure about where you’re at, but here in South Texas, it’s been hot. Like, mid-August hot. We might be used to mild winters, but I wouldn’t consider 90 degrees in December “mild”.

Justin dropped us off and stepping into the blind felt more like stepping into a sauna. Despite the oppressively humid heat, we set ourselves up and waited.

One of my favorite scenes in the MeatEater show is when he and Joe Rogan are glassing for deer on Prince of Wales island in Alaska. It’s raining, obviously cold, and the wind is ripping through their little shelter as they’re looking for anything on the opposite ridge.

Steve laughs a little and talks about how some of the best fun is “suffering”. Sure, the conditions are miserable and you’d give just about anything to be somewhere dry and warm, but after this hunt, it’ll be the most fun you’ve had. Those challenges make the moment of success so much sweeter.

You’ll look back on that miserable day on the mountain fondly and think “Man. That was so much fun.”

This was what I channeled as we baked in that deer blind in the South Texas heat.

As we watched the three or so does that braved the heat for corn, we whispered for those hours about hunting and all kinds of things. I don’t think I’ve ever written a post about hunting that didn’t include a little bit about conversations in the deer stand when the hunting is slow, and it’s because it’s one of my favorite parts of hunting.

Court and Jessica smiling for a picture in the deer blind — Obligatory deer blind selfie. I’m not sorry.

I knew there would be downtime with hunting when I first started; I didn’t know it would include some of the most meaningful and most fun conversations with my husband.

The sun slowly sank below the trees, and we decided to call it; I didn’t blame the deer for sticking to the shade of the brush.

We loaded up in the mule, and Justin shook his head. He had chosen a stand near us for some hog hunting, and instead of seeing hogs, he only saw deer. Including a shooter 8-point that would’ve fit the management criteria.

As we drove back home that night, still sticky from the sit, I brushed it off. After all, it wouldn’t be a proper hunt if we got our deer the first sit!

To be continued…

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Eight Pointed Dream: The Story of the B.F.E.

From the moment after my first deer hunt, I fantasized about my dream deer on the wall. Most hunters probably do; the deer that outdoorsmen or women’s dreams are made of.

Mine was always a huge, symmetrical, graceful 8-point. Antlers that reached to the sky like carefully shaped tree branches, a rack that was tall and wide. I just knew it would be many years before I had a chance at something like that. Or would it?

It was just another Sunday, Court and I were sitting on the couch after a day of chores and preparation for the week. Ding. Court checked his phone and let out a little whistle.

“Look what Justin just sent me.”

Large eight point whitetail deer looking into camera — This is the actual picture we got. I couldn’t breathe when I first saw him.

I peered over the side table at the message. It was a picture of a massive and almost perfectly symmetrical eight-point buck, presumably from his friend’s ranch. Underneath, the text said, “Is this big enough for Jess?”

I chuckled with wide eyes. “He’s a bruiser! That’s just cruel!” I sat back and shook my head. I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to see something like that in person.

Court shrugged and replied. Ding. “Do you want to go hunt for him this weekend?”

I froze, heart pounding. “For real?”

“Yes! Do you want to go?”

I practically leapt off the couch. “YES! YES! Oh my gosh, do you think he’ll actually come out?!”

“He might!”

I was over the moon. This was everything I had ever dreamed of in a buck, and it was actually possible. I could hardly sit still for longer than a few seconds.

I turned my focus to the current episode of “MeatEater” that we were watching on Netflix, an episode where Steve brought his friend Janis and Janis’s father on a moose hunt. Steve and Janis talked up a pretty difficult hunt and on day one, Janis Sr. harvested the first moose of the trip. They gave him a hard time, but he just shrugged and in his Latvian accent told them he had manifested that moose, so he wasn’t surprised.

Court caught my eye and pointed at the screen with a wink. “Just manifest that deer!” I shrugged, but got to thinking… Could it be possible?

Now, yes, I know that I do not actually have the power to “manifest” something just because I will it to happen or into existence. But the idea of sending such positive energy into the universe that it comes back to you… It was intriguing enough to try.

Off and on throughout every day that week, I focused every ounce of my will on visualizing that deer appearing in the sendero. By Thursday, I just knew, with all my being, that I would see that deer that weekend.

I regularly told Court this, too. “I just know it, we’re going to see the B.F.E. this weekend.”

“The B. F. what?”

I shrugged. “That’s what I’ve been calling it in my mind… The Big Freakin’ Eight. B.F.8 just didn’t have the same ring to it.”

As I went to sleep at night and as I woke in the morning, that same gut feeling persisted that we would get a shot at the B.F.E.

And on Friday morning, our entire area flash flooded. I mean that even in our neighborhood, which is above the flood plane, I could barely back my SUV out of the driveway because the water had gotten so high. With the ranch just outside town, the roads that weren’t already underwater there would be almost impossible to traverse.

I felt my dream buck slipping out of my grasp. This couldn’t be happening… It felt like a cruel joke. Court assured me that we would try later in the weekend if the roads became passable. It was difficult to stay positive.

The sun burned bright all day the next day, slowly drying up the earth. I manifested, visualized, prayed, and everything else that they tell you to do for those roads to dry up so we could just have a chance. Just a chance, that was all I wanted.

By the end of the day on Saturday, we had decided to give it a go. My heart hammered in my chest as the F250 plowed through thick mud in the predawn darkness that hadn’t completely dried yet. Despite barely being able to sleep the night before, I was alert and ready.

We met up with the ranch manager and he took us out to the stand where the massive buck had recently been seen. I worked to control my thundering pulse as we climbed up the ladder into the stand and settled in. With a thumbs up, Doug was gone and left us there to wait for the beast.

As the sun started to peek above the trees, shadows took shape below us in the senderos. Does and a couple of smaller bucks loitered around a trail of corn, warming their fur in the early-morning sun. We carefully scanned each buck, but they were not the one we were seeking.

Just as the sun finally crested above the trees, a dark shape appeared at the very end of the sendero. Court and I immediately sat up from our chairs in the stand and carefully peered at it through the binoculars.

We could tell this buck was darker than the others even as it waited in the shade of the trees, its thick body still as it bent to munch on some corn. My heart started to race again, but I wasn’t sure if I dared to hope that it was our target buck.

He lifted his head up to the side, and I strained to get a good look at this antlers. They blurred into the tree limbs behind him; we would have to wait until he got closer. Court lowered his binoculars slowly, his eyes narrowing in thought. “I think that’s him.”

I wasn’t so sure. Luck had not been on our side so far!

We watched with baited breath as he slowly meandered closer. Every time he started to move, we both glanced at him again through the binoculars and the rifle scope.

As he stopped about 200 yards from the stand, we finally got a good look at him, and my breath caught in my throat. There he was, those nearly perfect antlers reaching up into the sky above him as he lazily swiveled his head to survey the deer around him. I had never imagined getting to see my dream deer within the first four years of my hunting career, but there he was. He was purely majestic as he stood completely still among the other deer.

Court and I both turned to each other and said “that’s him!” at the same moment.

I grimaced as I studied him again. He was surrounded by other deer, and there was no clear shot. My heart beat frantically, but I knew we needed to wait for a safer shot.

After a few more moments he started wading through the other deer directly towards the stand. I readied myself as he slowly broke away from the group and stepped to the right, completely broadside.

I took a deep breath, slowly tracing my index finger to the trigger, and then exhaled slowly and smoothly…

Then promptly removed my hand from the trigger as he turned head-on to us and started walking again.

Buck fever was settling in, and I had to fight to regain control of my breathing and heart beat. Court put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, he’ll give you another shot, just wait.”

He meandered a few yards closer, easily within 100 yards of us now. The buck slowly came to a stop and stepped broadside again to examine a piece of corn. I was ready, moved my finger to the trigger, started to exhale…

And dropped my hand away as he turned towards us again. Buck fever was slowly turning into frustration and fear that I would miss a shot. No, I wouldn’t miss; I would take the next shot I was given, no fear. I was 5/5 at this point in my hunting career; I wouldn’t miss, and I would make a good shot.

The buck started to slow down again. Court watched through his binoculars as he spoke. “You can do this…”

The buck had nearly come to a stop…

“Just take the first shot…”

He started to step broadside again…

“He gives you…”

I expelled the air in my lungs until there was nothing but the tiny spot behind his shoulder and my finger on the trigger…

“When you feel…”

BOOM!

So much happened at once. The buck dropped to the ground as the other deer scattered around him. The shell flew through the deer stand. My ears rang as my breath came back and my grip loosened on the rifle that I still held in a shooting position. Somewhere to my left, Court had jumped and was now watching through his binoculars.

He smiled broadly as he grabbed my shoulder. “You surprised me!” He glanced down at the deer below us. “You smoked him, he dropped right in his tracks. Look!”

I let my eyes adjust from staring into the scope for so long and saw him, my dream deer, exactly where he had been standing when I fired. Suddenly, it hit me; I actually did it. This deer that I had sent all the vibes into the universe for was real, and he was right there, waiting for me.

“Should we got get him?” I couldn’t even find the words, so I just nodded wildly and carefully grabbed my rifle to bring with us.

I couldn’t breathe as we walked up to him. He was just so beautiful, everything I had ever dreamed of and imagined in my dream deer. His coat was tinged with some grey, his body thick and strongly muscled after a long season of the rut. A big scar marred his side from aggressive encounters with other bucks. I placed a gentle hand in his fur and looked into his brown eyes.

I took a deep breath as I carefully lifted up his heavy head, the rack wider than my shoulders. Even thinking back to those moments of seeing him up close for the first time, words just can’t accurately capture my admiration for such an incredible creature.

Jessica holding up large whitetail buck in the sunlight — My B.F.E.!

Before I had ever really started hunting, I had always wondered how people could kill something that they revered as something of beauty, especially a gentle creature like a deer. As I’ve hunted more, I’ve learned that the relationship between hunters and their prey is a complicated one.

It comes down to the fact that hunting isn’t only about killing.

It’s about food. I still remember feeling conflicted after my first harvest until my husband made me venison tenderloin and eggs for breakfast the next morning. It solidified that connection for me, that hunting is just as much about food as anything else. It’s just one of many possible outcomes in the circle of life.

It’s about experiencing nature. It’s watching the does and the yearlings trailing after them. Starting when turkeys traipse into the feeder like little velociraptors, heads bobbing every which way. Giggling as a feisty little spike stands guard over the corn. Catching the flashes of emerald green and turquoise of Mexican green jays’ wings as they spiral through the air. It’s seeing these animals in their own world, living their lives.

And the more time I’ve spent around them, the more I’ve come to love them. The few times we interact with them up close are truly magical, even when it’s just before taking them away to turn into food for our freezer. Like I said, it’s complex, and it’s difficult to really put into words, but I hope to find the words for it someday.

whitetail shoulder mounted deer on the wall

Jessica holding up shoulder mounted white tail deer

The Big Freakin’ Eight (B.F.E.) now stands guard over our living room. During the following deer season, when I would spend every hunt relentlessly searching for Big Boy, the B. F.E. would be my reminder that these big, mature deer are few and far between, and that’s part of what makes harvesting one so special. He would remind me to be grateful for the ability to hunt at all and the generosity of others that are willing to share their resources with us.

Throughout my 6th hunting season, I’ve looked into the eyes of that buck again and remembered how lucky I am to have harvested my dream deer.

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One Last Christmas Gift

As was our tradition, Court and I sat beneath the tree on Christmas Eve in 2018 after spending time with family to open our gifts to each other. Moving to South Texas had allowed us to create our own new traditions together.

There were days filled with anticipation as my sister and I helped them get everything ready for Christmas. There were ornaments to be carefully placed on the tree, tinsel and garland to be wrapped around the bannisters, presents to be wrapped (and secrets to be kept!), cookies to be baked, and eventually, Christmas movies to be watched.

Some days, we would bundle up in fleece pajamas with hot chocolate and Santa Claus cookies and watch movies together on repeat. Even now, I can taste those gingery, melty cookies with a few too many marshmallows in my hot chocolate. The one movie we seemed to watch the most was The Polar Express, my grandma’s favorite one of all. We often managed to watch it several times throughout the season.

Those memories had made Christmas of 2018 a little extra difficult. It had been almost three months since my grandma passed away, and while my Christmas memories with her were dear to me, they renewed that same sense of sadness.

I remember wrapping presents for my grandparents that year, carefully and tightly wrapping the paper around the boxes for a perfect fit. I had wrapped three, and started looking for the fourth one. The realization that there would only be three this year was like a slap in the face. I couldn’t hold back the wave of sadness, or the tears that started streaming down my face. It felt silly, but the idea of not wrapping a gift for my grandma had brought back all the pain of her passing.

So here we were, on Christmas Eve of 2018, opening some of our gifts from my family in Kansas. After rooting around the boxes under the tree, I picked up a small one, glanced at the tag, and froze.

To: Jessica From: Grandma and Grandpa

Taped to the box was a note. I showed Court, and we both paused to read it. After my grandpa had moved out of the house to a retirement facility, my parents had come across two gifts wrapped and addressed to me and my sister. Somehow, they had been forgotten or saved for this year.

I carefully opened the box, to find a gleaming silver bell. An ornament for our tree, exactly like the bell in The Polar Express. They had given us one last Christmas gift.

I chose a space on the front of the tree, moving some random red balls out of the way so it could be front and center. The lights on the tree reflected on its smooth silver surface, as if its presence lit up our Christmas tree more than ever.

Christmas ornament in the shape of a silver bell — Here is the bell on our tree, it always looks so beautiful in the lights.

The past three Christmases, as Court and I have decorated the tree, he has handed me the box with a knowing grin. I have carefully opened it, lightly rung the bell with a smile, and placed it lovingly on the tree. Before putting the box away, I’ve tucked away the little note and tag to be read again the next year.

If you’re reading this, I know that Christmas has looked very different these past two years. It looks different for us again, too. But know that no matter how far apart you are from your friends or your family, they’re always with you. This season is about finding hope, love, and peace despite our circumstances, and I wish them all for you this Christmas.

Epilogue

I originally wrote this post back in 2020, when I first started my “Fiercely Imperfect” blog. For some reason, I never decided to share it. When I transitioned to this new site, I couldn’t quite bring myself to delete the draft, and I only remembered it after opening the box for this particular ornament this past weekend.

Since writing this post, I’ve also lost my Grandpa that gifted thisornament, and placing it on the tree this year felt a little more bittersweet than ever. I’m so thankful to have this memory of them, and to see it light up our home during their favorite holiday.

If the past couple of years have taught us anything, it’s the importance of love and letting people know how much you care. Life is short, so love a lot and leave a little kindness wherever you go.

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Bow Hunting Part 2: the TenPoint Spike

I’m not sure why, but as a hunter, I’ve developed a pretty healthy dose of pessimism. Even the day before, walking out when all the evidence showed that we would see Big Boy, I just had this feeling that it wasn’t going to happen.

But as we walked out to the Green Stand in the quiet morning hours, I felt different. Hopeful. Maybe even certain that things would be different today.

That feeling remained as we settled into the deer stand and waited for the sun to rise.

Several games of Solitaire later, as the sun barely began to poke through the mesquite trees, the feeder went off loudly in the silence. In the time it took for me to set down my phone and look back up, four does had wandered out into the sendero.

doe standing in the sendero — This obviously wasn’t from this weekend, but this is how close how they already were!

Court and I looked at each other, and we couldn’t help matching grins. It was going to happen today.

They almost walked right past the feeder and straight to the line of corn that we had replenished heading towards the deer stand. My heart started to quicken as they slowly wandered closer. Based on the landmarks we had ranged the day before, these deer were still around 50 yards away.

I just happened to glance to my right across Court and saw another deer moving in the sendero that intersected the one in front of us. The window was blurry, but I didn’t think it had any antlers, and this one was much closer!

“Look, another doe!” I whispered, pointing across him.

He glanced out the window, moving the blurry plastic aside. “No… it’s… a spike!”

My heart almost exploded out of my chest with a sharp intake of breath. A spike? It couldn’t have been more perfect.

Now I just needed to make a good shot.

We watched the spike slowly make his way underneath our stand and then continue like he might keep walking down the road. Maybe it was the does, or maybe it was the corn, but he suddenly paused and glanced down the sendero. My heart was thundering; he was right there.

As if he could read my thoughts, he started walking towards the corn. I scrambled to silently move the seat up and the crossbow into position while Court ranged the little spike.

“15 yards… now 20…” It couldn’t have been any more perfect. But I couldn’t allow my excitement to get the better of me; I took deep breaths and started focusing on my target.

Just as he started to turn broadside, the does had caught up to him. There he stood, broadside, with does standing less than 10 yards behind him.

We were so. Close.

As he slowly moved to the right, away from the does, I went back through all of the points I had been talking through with Court for almost a week now.

Wait until he’s completely broadside.

Wait until the foot closest to you steps forward and he’s relaxed.

Aim a little further back than you would with a rifle.

He’s at 23 yards; keep the center of his body between the top and middle tick marks.

Take the safety off, and squeeze the trigger.

Follow through; keep looking through the scope.

And breathe. Just breathe.

It felt like slow motion as he stepped that foot forward. My heart had never beat so hard; six years of preparation were coming down to this moment. I took a deep breath, willing my lungs to cooperate as I attempted to squeeze my breath out.

Wait a minute, this isn’t a rifle; this is a bow!

I had barely finished the thought, when instinct kicked in. I squeezed the trigger and for a moment, thought I saw the bolt collide with his ribs.

Deer scattered in every direction, and it took me a moment to realize I had even made a shot. By the time my mind had processed everything that had happened, my scope was empty; the deer were long gone.

I sat back from the crossbow, my body shaking as the adrenaline finally took over. Even though I thought I knew the answer, I just couldn’t believe it, so I had to ask; “did I hit him?”

Court almost laughed at me. “That was a great shot! You got him!”

Every part of me shook as I examined the empty sendero before me. As my memory started to catch up, I realized I felt great about the shot, that some deeper part of me knew it had hit home.

We waited and I shook harder with the anticipation of tracking the deer. Ten minutes stretched on to what felt like hours when Court finally decided it was time look. We walked out with the crossbow in hand, and it was everything I could do to breathe.

My heart beat until we came upon the place where he had last been standing and then nearly stopped; there was no blood. Anywhere. My confidence evaporated.

A few yards behind his last location, we found the crossbow bolt and sure enough, it had blood from broadhead to nock. Luckily for me, Court is one of the best trackers I’ve ever met, so if that deer had fallen, I knew he would find it.

He pointed out a small gap in the brush where he had seen the spike tear through in the moments after the shot. I have to say, I’m so glad he was with me, because I didn’t even see where it went.

We carefully pressed through the thick, dry brush. The lingering summer had fried some of the colorful flowers to a deep brown, making our search more difficult. I carefully pinched anything that resembled blood between my fingertips, but they kept coming back dry.

Court found the first blood, a small speck on some bushes. Glancing around, we started to see small ruby glimmers, gradually growing larger until…

I gasped.

My spike lay on his side underneath a tree, just steps from the next clearing. There were no words as it finally sank in; my first archery deer.

whitetail spike laying on the ground with a tenpoint crossbow — My archery deer, what an amazing moment.

My eyes moistened as I made eye contact with Court, and we beamed at each other for just a moment. Ever since he started taking me hunting, before my first doe, he knew that this was the ultimate goal. Bow hunting. I honestly couldn’t have asked for a better person to introduce me to the amazing world of the outdoors.

Then I turned my attention to my spike.

I’ve watched every episode of MeatEater, and after finding a downed animal, Steven Rinella takes a moment with it, looking it over as if taking it in. Admittedly, I’ve never really taken a moment with an animal after recovering it; not because I felt bad or didn’t want to look at it, I guess it just never occurred to me.

I got down on my knees next to him and took a moment to take it all in. It always amazes me how small they are up close, especially these South Texas deer. They’re probably one of the most beautiful animals to me, and watching them so closely has only made me love them even more.

I ran my hand down the side of his ribs and was shocked when it came back covered in blood. No wonder there hadn’t been much of a trail to follow; the dew on the trees had soaked his fur and trapped the blood.

I may have taken this deer’s life, but I would honor him as best as I could. We had an entire list of meals we were excited to make with the meat that would share with both family and friends.

We dragged him back to the sendero and I waited with him while Court retrieved the truck to bring him back to the cabin.

He was just so perfect. The perfect spike on a perfect bow hunt.

I thought about everything that had happened leading up to these moments this weekend. The fear and uncertainty of my first hunt, the extra preparation time in the second hunt, and the final moment of truth this morning.

I realized that I wouldn’t have been ready for this spike without those first two hunts.

The first to show me that I really didn’t want my first archery deer to be a monster buck, and that I wouldn’t have been ready if Big Boy had walked out.

The second to build my confidence and help me feel ready for the next day.

And the third to finally achieve a goal I have been aching to complete long before taking a shot at an animal; harvesting my first archery deer.

Jessica holding up her spike whitetail buck with a crossbow — We decided to call him TenPoint after the crossbow; it’s a little ironic, which I love!

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Bow Hunting Part 1: Lessons Learned

I took a deep breath after stepping out into the early morning air; the cold front had cooled an otherwise warm October. A perfect morning for a hunt.

Court’s eyes were bright as he handed me a stool to carry to the blind.

“Are you ready?” he whispered. I could only nod in response.

It would be my first bow hurt, and I was going after a monster buck known as Big Boy. After hunting him last year and failing, I had already decided I wouldn’t wait on him forever.

This year, though, he was regularly appearing on camera at the same time and same place every morning. After flipping through the pictures the night before, there was a very real possibility that he could be there today.

Large buck and small buck underneath the feeder — Obviously, Big Boy is the big one. This the trail cam picture that haunted my dreams.

We settled into the stand and it was all I could do to keep my breathing steady.

Looking out of the ground blind at the deer feeder with mesquite trees around us — The view from the ground blind; I’d never hunted that close to the feeder before!

After 6 years, I was archery hunting for the first time. I had watched so many professional hunters bow hunt on their shows, and it was astounding just how much could go wrong.

I tried to swallow my intimidation while adjusting the crossbow in front of me. Though I had only gotten a few shots once, I felt okay about it all. Without sounding like I’m bragging, I’m a pretty accurate shot. But lack of experience breeds doubt, and I was starting to doubt myself.

As the sun rose, we practiced ranging some raccoons that had come out underneath the feeder. A strange feeling solidified in my gut the longer we were there; I couldn’t tell if it was frustration or even relief that Big Boy hadn’t shown up yet.

Just when I had given up on seeing the old buck, there was a ruckus in the trees behind the stand and we both perked up. Moments later, no less than ten turkey hens came running to the corn, clucking their delight at such a feast.

I couldn’t help the smile that came to my face as we watched them. Unexpected turkeys have become one of my favorite things about deer hunting.

We watched them demolish the corn on the ground until their presumed leader lifted her head high, observing the sendero for the first time. With a couple of clucks, she started marching down the sendero, her fellow hens falling into line behind her like some kind of turkey militia moving on to the next feeder.

It’s hard to see because of tree limbs and the netting, but those turkeys didn’t care at all that we were sitting right there.

As they passed just feet from us, I knew in my heart that bow hunting might just be one of the most amazing experiences.

Still smiling after such a close encounter, we decided to call it. There were camera cards to gather and plenty of time for some extra shooting practice.

The camera cards yielded some interesting information about our target deer, and after looking through them, I had three target bucks on my mind.

Of course, Big Boy was hope number one, but his appearances were sporadic at best. Court and I didn’t feel optimistic about seeing him.

My second and more realistic large buck target was one that I had named Bent Bow. To my delight, the nice eight pointer that I let go at the end of last season had returned this year as a wide, mature eight pointer that was easily the second largest deer on the property.

But the deer that really made my heart skip a beat was a little spike. Looking back, I know in my heart that he was the deer I had hoped to see most because the idea of taking my first archery shot at a monster buck was terrifying.

Every year, my control and poise improved, but you just never know what’s going to happen when a monster buck walks out in front of you. I remembered my intimidation and the effort it took to stay in control when I took aim on my largest deer, the BFE. Every part of me shook and it was all I could to control my breathing; but with a rifle, I was able to make an accurate shot.

With a rifle.

Again, after watching so many episodes of bow hunting online and talking to so many more experienced hunters about their experiences during bow season, I was very well aware of the challenges and pitfalls.

I remember when it came to my first deer ever, my husband had been adamant that it was a doe. With a doe, you don’t get the same buck fever and you can focus on making a great shot.

With limited doe tags for the ranch, my best option was a spike. The antlers wouldn’t intimidate me, the meat would be amazing, and it would be a great cull deer for the herd.

With new intel for the rest of our hunts, it was time to get some work done. While Court sawed up the larger pieces of wood for firewood, I stacked them along the fence at the edge lawn around the cabin.

Out of the quiet, windy morning, a gobble rang out and we froze. Before I could process how close it was, clucks erupted from the trees on the other side of the fence where we stacked the wood. We dropped to the ground as 10 turkey hens swarmed the little feeder in the trees with militaristic precision.

We were putting away the firewood when they just came out of nowhere! I crawled as close to the fence as I could.

Again, their presumed leader kept watch as they demolished the corn there, too. I crawled towards the fence, maybe 10 yards from the turkey frenzy.

Just as quickly as it started, the turkeys fell back into line and disappeared back into the trees. I have to say, the more time I get to spend around them, the more I love turkeys. They know what they want, and they don’t mess around; I can respect that.

Once the work was done, we decided to get in a little more crossbow practice. The wind whipped around us, and timing in between gusts became everything as we practiced at 20, then 30, then 40 yards.

A crossbow is a strange thing to shoot. Many people think of it as a rifle that shoots bolts, but it’s just not that simple. Sure, the mechanics of it are more like a rifle, but the range and the way you have to aim it are just like a compound bow.

Having shot rifles a lot and compound bows enough, it was very comforting to have the extra practice. Now we only had to wait until the late afternoon.

One lunch at the Empresario and a good nap later, we found ourselves heading back out down range from the cabin. Even armed with the knowledge that all of our target deer had appeared at our new hunting spot multiple times, nothing was guaranteed.

Jessica eating chicken fried steak and fruit for brunch at the Empresario — Chicken fried steak and fruit for brunch. It’s called balance.

While our morning hunt had been in a blind 35 yards from the feeder, we were hunting in a stand 65 yards from the feeder with a trail of corn leading to a massive pile right at about 20 yards. If I’m being honest, I was skeptical. Why would a deer leave all the corn at the feeder for a pile 30 yards away?

I would find out.

Moments after the feeder went off, a doe peeked out from the tree line, examining the scene for anything suspicious. My heart beat faster as she crossed the sendero and was followed by another doe. They repeated this crisscross pattern until they reached the feeder.

We watched them wander around for almost 30 minutes, and I tried to ignore my flaring frustration. There they were, standing broadside within easy rifle range, and here I was trying to get them with a bow.

No wonder people eventually ditched bows and arrows for rifles long ago.

Just when I was considering how I could sneak up on them across an open road, another deer stepped into the sendero; a young buck. As he started mozying towards the feeder, I dared to hope that he might bump them closer to our trail of corn.

The young buck took one look at the little does and leapt towards them, standing over his corn like a dragon over its treasure. The does scattered into the trees, but I didn’t give up hope.

Moments passed and they wandered back into the open, but they were much closer this time. They had found the trail of corn and were slowly working their way down the sendero towards the stand. Somehow, it had worked!

Court started ranging them as I set up the crossbow. I had to raise the chair as high as it would go, and now I could only see by watching through the scope.

“55 yards” Court whispered, as we watched them come closer.

I studied them, imagining the moment when they would step broadside and I could make a safe shot. All in good time.

“50 yards.”

My heart started beating as they inched closer, and it was all I could do to stop shaking. I drew on all of my ballet training to keep my body calm despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

“45 yards.”

Almost within range… A shape moved into the scope behind the does; the buck. He was following them down the sendero, greedily chomping on the corn. This was okay, though, we only needed him to push them about 10 yards closer.

Court and I had agreed that 40 yards would be the absolute limit on taking a shot, but we were hoping for 30-35. I watched as they inched ever closer…

The buck leapt forward and scattered them to the right. This time, they didn’t reemerge.

I lowered the seat and looked at Court as the buck kept wandering closer. Even though we were disappointed that the hunt was over, I couldn’t help but feel a little breathless after being so close.

As the sun slowly sank behind the trees, we watched the little buck wander to about 25 yards from the stand. I jokingly called him Lucky as he chomped on the corn and we studied him for distance and ideal shot placement. Goliad County is an antler restricted county, so he wouldn’t be a legal deer for a few years anyway.

As we slowly walked back to the cabin in the dark, though, I wasn’t discouraged. There’s something about walking back in the quiet twilight that stirs deeper reflections after a hunt. The more I thought about how things had played out on this first day, I realized it was all for the best.

If Big Boy or Bent Bow had walked out this morning, I don’t think I would’ve been ready, and that would’ve been worse than not seeing them at all. By the time I felt ready and confident, I had to experience another bow hunting reality; sometimes, they just don’t give you a chance.

My first day of bow hunting had proved to be pretty eventful and educational, and I was ready to see what our last morning hunt would bring.

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Danielle Prewett’s Tequila Turkey Tacos

If you’ve read any of my previous posts, you’ll know that my husband and I are big-time MeatEater fans! Like watch every episode and try every recipe fans.

In fact, just about every weekend over the summer, we’ve made a point to make one special wild game meal or try a new recipe with the meat we have.

Danielle Prewett’s Tequila Turkey Tacos have been on the docket for a long time, and this weekend, we decided to give them a try.

Wild Turkey Leg Taco with Queso Fresca, Cilantro, Pico de Gallo in a Flour Tortilla — Tequila Turkey Tacos

I’ll tell you this; you will never leave Turkey legs in the woods ever again after trying this recipe. The recipe is for 4-6 people, but the two of us devoured these moist, flavorful carnitas until there was nothing left!

Here’s just a few reasons why we loved this meal;

1. It’s super easy!

Yep. Mix up the sauce and seasoning, brown the meat, and let the crockpot do the work!

We got it started around 10:30 in morning and let it cook while we did some chores/ran some errands throughout the day. It was ready by 6:30.

It’s really as simple as cutting up the vegetables, mixing up the spices, browning/caramelizing, mixing them together, and then adding them to the crock pot! And yes, we cooked with Patron. Not sorry.

2. It can serve a lot of people and be customized very easily to their tastes.

Besides the turkey itself, you could put anything on this and enjoy it. The recipe called for cilantro and queso Fresca, but we added some pico de Gallo (being from South Texas and all) and already have plans to caramelize onions the next time.

This is something that could easily please a crowd, and we foresee more of this meal at family gatherings. (Once we have a chance to go turkey hunting again!)

Buffet of shredded turkey meat, vegetables, cilantro, Queso Fresca, and Pico de Gallo

3. It’s one more way to utilize the meat from the animal

Turkey legs are typically tough; when you think of turkey leg recipes, you might imagine something that resembles what they serve at Renaissance fairs…

This is just one more way to enjoy the food that you harvest and a great way to share it with others.

Danielle is an amazing outdoorswoman and has incredible wild game recipes, so go get this one at here.

And if you don’t already, follow her online! She hunts, fishes, forages, and then turns the harvest into beautiful, delicious creations.

We certainly look forward to seeing more of her recipes on MeatEater!

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Venison Shank Osso Buco

Another highlight of hosting my sister and her boyfriend over Labor Day weekend was introducing them to venison with one of our favorite recipes; venison shank osso buco!

It looks and sounds like complicated, fancy fare, but it’s actually a very simple recipe that turns one of the toughest cuts of meat into a delicate, light meal.

This deer season, keep those shanks and treat yourself to an Italian classic!

Venison Shank Osso Buco

Ingredients:

2 venison shanks (depending on how hungry you are, this is enough for 2-4 people)
Flour
1 cup of finely diced carrots
1 cup of finely diced celery
1/2 Onion
Tomato Sauce (28oz)
1 187ml/6.5oz bottle of white wine (we used Sutter Home Chardonnay, but use your preference!)
1tbsp of minced garlic
Beef Stock
Thyme
Rosemary

Method

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.

2. Cut the venison shanks into discs (you can get 4 from each shank); we thaw ours, cut the meat with a knife, and then carefully saw through the bone. Tie them with butcher twine so they don’t fall apart.

Court demonstrating how he cuts the discs and then them up with twine

3. Dredge them in flour before browning on all sides in olive oil using a dutch oven. (If you don’t have a dutch oven, you can use any skillet.) Set aside.

4. Add the onion and garlic; cook until aromatic.

5. Add the carrots, celery, rosemary, thyme, and half of the white wine to deglaze the bottom of the pan. Cook all the way through (until they’re browned).

From left to right: browning the shanks, setting them aside, and browning the vegetables

6. Pat vegetables down to completely cover the bottom of the pan and create a flat surface for the shanks. Put the meat back in the dutch oven, but make sure that none of the discs are touching.

7. Add 28-29oz of tomato sauce; add beef stock until the meat is covered.

8. Put the cover on the dutch oven for 4 hours at 300 degrees.

Adding the meat back in, covering with tomato sauce and stock, and then placing in the oven!

9. Remove from the oven, remove the twine around the discs and enjoy!

Venison shank osso buco resting on fried polenta shanks — The final product! We rested them on a bed of fried polenta discs, but have also served them a vegetable medley!

Recommended sides: polenta discs (this is our favorite!), orzo, rice, asparagus, zucchini/squash vegetable medley, and any other hearty vegetable sides.

Pin or save the recipe card below so you can try it!

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Ranch to Table: Leopold’s Venison Biscuits and Gravy

It never fails as we’re watching an episode of MeatEater; I’ll look my husband in the eye and say, “let’s try that sometime!”

One such recipe that came up pretty frequently was an episode where they made a variation of Aldo Leopold’s recipe for Venison Biscuits and Gravy.

Easily made in a campfire or modern kitchen, this rustic dish hits all the notes for a hearty comfort-food breakfast or brunch.

The best part? It’s super easy!

Check out our recipe down below!

Venison with Biscuits and Gravy — Definitely one of my new favorites!

Venison Biscuits and Gravy

Ingredients:

Venison steaks (we used two for two of us)
Olive oil (you could substitute with any cooking oil you prefer)
Flour
Biscuits (you could do homemade, we used some Pilsbury Grands!)

Method:

Make/bake biscuits as directed
While biscuits are baking, heat oil on a skillet for frying the venison
Pound flat and cut the venison steaks into smaller pieces (we made it so we had 1-2 small strips per biscuit)
Lightly coat the steak strips in flour and fry to the desired doneness; move to the oven to stay warm once done
Make a simple gravy by adding flour and water a little bit at a time to the remaining oil in the pan; season with salt and pepper to taste. (We added a little milk to ours, too!)
Plate the biscuit with the venison on top and cover with gravy.

Simple and delicious. Couldn’t ask for better.

This makes a great stand alone breakfast, or you can add other traditional breakfast sides such as fresh fruit, eggs, hash browns, etc.

Get the full recipe card below!

Recipe card for venison biscuits and gravy

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Ginger’s Story: The Beginning

The year 2020 certainly started off with a surprise in our household; Ginger! While we hadn’t planned on immediately adding another fur baby to our family, she has been the most perfect fit in every way.

It all started on Friday, January 3rd. I just gotten settled at my desk for work that day. Suddenly, my phone started going off like crazy with text messages. Different family emergency scenarios ran through my mind until I realized it was a deep discussion about three little puppies.

These three little puppies had been dropped off at a kill shelter in Robstown, and their euthanization date was this Friday in the late afternoon. My heart instantly broke, and I commented how cute they were, before trying to keep them out of my mind.

Puppy at the Shelter looking through bars — There she was with her sisters!

The trouble with loving and wanting to save all the dogs in the world is the horrible truth that we just can’t save them all on our own.

The text messages continued, so I checked again.

“We want to get two of them. But we can’t leave the third, so we won’t. If someone doesn’t take the third, then they’ll all die.”

UGH. Court texted me. “What do you think?”

I texted back; “I think I need to call you.” Court and I had agreed that Penny needed a sibling, and that maybe this summer would be a good time to find one and get them acclimated to a new home. I was teaching dance in the evenings at the time, and Court had several business trips coming up in the first half of the year, so it was not a good time to be adding a puppy to our family.

After some discussion, he said, “it’s up to you. I am okay with it if you want to get this dog.” (This is why she is my dog now whenever she misbehaves!)

A jolt of excitement beamed through my heart. This was really happening. I texted back in the group text, we would take the third one. There was a flurry of coordination and text messages as calls were made to save the dogs and my in-laws immediately set out to pick up the dogs.

Ginger at the vet, looking up at the camera!

I couldn’t contain my excitement through the rest of the day; I got permission to leave early from my boss and Court and I both met at home to go pick her up from the vet with her sisters. I had practically memorized all three of their little faces; their tawny fur, small white patches, little ears laid back. Three little triplets, all getting rescued at the same time.

They were only four months old, and I was excited at the prospect of having a small puppy for the first time in a long time. To this day, I wish we could’ve had Penny as a baby, so I was thrilled to raise this baby from a little tiny thing.

We arrived at the vet, told them we were here with our family, and they took us to the room. Court and I shared an excited look before opening the door. We both froze.
These girls were almost as big as Penny, the smallest weighing in at 35 pounds and the largest weighing in at 37! And they were rib-showing skinny, with giant paws clumsily racing around the room like little hooligans.

After spending some time with the three of them, my in-laws had decided to keep the shyest and the wildest one together, so we would be taking the middle puppy. They handed us our puppy’s leash, and a little food for me to feed her from my hand. The sweet little girl immediately came up to me and smiled up at me with a wildly wagging tail. Even then, she was such a happy girl.

The vet tech handed us some paperwork and frowned. “Oops, looks like we need a name for her. What’s her name?”

Court and I stared at each other. We had managed to adopt a dog and hadn’t thought anything about a name. I pondered a name while petting her soft, gingery hair. My head snapped up; “how about Ginger?”

Court shrugged, “Sounds good to me!” Ginger. Our not-so-little baby had a name.

We brought Ginger home and prepared to introduce her to Penny. Penny had always been really good with other dogs, but you just never know what will happen. I had read countless articles about introducing dogs for the first time, and we were doing everything wrong. But it was almost 10:00pm, so we didn’t have time to be walking them in the pitch black and finding a neutral spot to introduce them.

The moment we set Ginger down, Penny immediately greeted her with a wagging tail and wiggly body. Ginger ran away, overwhelmed with being apart from her sisters for the first time in her life, being in a new place, and meeting a new dog for the first time.

penny and ginger sitting on the couch together — Taking pictures was tough!

We gave them space, and they started to acclimate. Until Penny tried to play with her, and Ginger snapped back in fear. What have we done? I thought as I held Ginger while Court pulled Penny away. We had always decided that we would only get a new dog if it was right for Penny, because she was our first dog and this was her home. There was nothing to be done that night, so we put Ginger in her kennel and everyone slept on it.

With baited breath, we let Ginger out of her kennel that morning, Penny warily keeping her distance. The moment that door opened, Ginger went right up to Penny with a wagging tail and “good morning” kisses. We exchanged glances; maybe this was going to work after all!
Throughout the day, the change in Ginger was clear. Penny showed her all around the house and the backyard, introduced her to all of their toys, and even taught her how to jump on the bed. After hours of playing and running around the house, they fell into a snuggly heap together on the couch.

They became the best of friends very quickly!

I’ve always felt that dogs know when they’ve been rescued, and though she was still a baby, Ginger definitely seemed to know that she was now in a loving home with parents and an adopted fur sister that would take care of her.

To this day, she remains one of the happiest dogs that I’ve ever met. Her eyes are bright, her tail constantly thumping on something, her mouth open in a smile. She was the last thing we wanted three days into the new year after the holidays, and yet she was everything our little family needed.

Among the Exotics: Final Thoughts

If you haven’t already read about this enormous hunting weekend with us, check out the story behind my axis deer (here and here)!

And if you have, let’s get into some final thoughts about hunting for exotics on a high fence ranch.

It’s kind of funny, thinking about writing a blog post about how to prepare for something you’ve never done before. I got some great advice from Court, but no matter how much you prepare, you’re never completely mentally prepared for what you’re about to experience when you try something new.

In my mind, both of these animals would be an easy harvest from a blind, but they would be so unique and special because we had wanted them for so long. We would go hunt, get our animals, and then relax at the cabin the rest of the time, or go on little safaris to observe all the different animals running around out there, maybe even sleep in a little bit.

Ha. I could not have been more wrong!!

This was one of the hardest weekends of hunting that I’ve ever done. Court and I have done long sits and hunted hard at the family ranch, sure, but not like this. There were no afternoons spent spot-and-stalk hunting for a sign of our target, or literal full afternoon sits through the heat and weather in the hopes that the animals would come out at the right spot. Sometimes, we wouldn’t even get up crazy early like we did on these hunts.

We hunted hard for both animals; we earned every bit of those trophies and that meat, and it didn’t feel like the the stereotypical high fence hunt that we hear about all the time in the best way. It has completely changed how I feel about hunting and I’m going to try to explain as clearly as I can through my excitement and the lingering adrenaline as I’m writing this a long time after!

Here are a few of my thoughts after my first high fence and exotic hunt.

Hunting a New Species is an Exciting Challenge

Read that heading twice. No species is the same, no matter where you hunt them!

The way that our guides hunted with us was drastically different both based on our skills/experience and the animal that we were hunting. Axis deer are notorious for being very skittish and sticking to cover until the very last bit of light if they can help it. Blackbuck, however, are very territorial and the mature males will often stick with their harem of does in a specific area. My guide, Kate, and I stuck to stealth and the areas where the axis deer were commonly seen, while my husband and his guide kept an eye out for their quarry and his little herd in a specific area.

But that didn’t mean that the blackbuck was in the place he was supposed to be, and the axis deer still didn’t come out where they had originally expected. That’s the beauty of hunting that carries into targeting any species; just because you think you know what they’re going to do doesn’t mean that they’ll do it! (And usually, they don’t!)

Beyond our weekend hunting, Court’s hunt for his fallow deer back in December was a very different hunt. Fallow deer aren’t very skittish and behave a little more like whitetail deer. He didn’t see one at a feeder, but they found one that he liked and he was able to do a mini spot-and-stalk to get a good shot on the animal. The red deer at this ranch were known to behave similarly, too.

Within the bounds of one ranch and comparing four different species, the methods of successfully hunting them were wildly different! I feel that when it comes to hunting whitetail and wild hogs (which are the most common native big game species in Texas), the hunting strategy is very similar. In fact, you’ll often come across one while hunting the other, whereas the animals on the exotic ranch seemed to follow their own rules.

This was the first time since hunting my first deer that we really took a different approach to harvesting an animal (we took a few different ones, actually), and it felt like we had to be more strategic about our hunts. If you know, then you know I love a good challenge, and targeting axis deer has been one of the biggest challenges of my hunting career so far! (Other than spring turkeys. They still hold the title of Most Difficult Species For Jess To Hunt lol.)

The middle axis deer with his head down is actually the one I ended up harvesting! I would love to be able to watch them more sometime, I was a little preoccupied at the moment when this was taken…

Wonder All Around

One of my favorite things about hunting is just watching animals be animals. Yes, you can go to the zoo, but it’s not the same! Watching whitetail deer just live their lives out in the wild, doing their thing and completely unaware of anyone observing them is a pretty magical experience. I’ve seen bucks grunt and chase does, spikes play-fight, yearlings plop into the grass for a nap, does kick at each other, big bucks poke their heads out of the trees, and more. Honestly, it’s those moments of watching animals that stick with me longer than pulling the trigger.

And with exotic hunting this weekend, it was x10. This time, I got a peek into the world of creatures I had never seen live outside of a zoo.

We saw all kinds of amazing animals just doing their thing:

A baby gemsbok slowly wandering across the clearing to their parents up on the hill
A turkey coming in to Kate’s call and chatting back to her
That same turkey having it out with some screaming axis bucks hidden in the trees
Listening to those same axis bucks fighting each other, the clack of their antlers like a clash of swords
A pregnant red deer hind that glared at us when she wouldn’t cross the road
Gemsbok. Just all the gemsbok, but especially when they came down towards the feeder with all the axis deer
Axis deer bucks swiveling their heads to look like dancing trees in the shade of the wooded areas
Too High prancing around his little harem of does after getting shot at without a care in the world
Also Too High getting chased by a younger buck, both with a little gleam of mischief in their eyes as they sped past us
Oryx galloping like strange horned horses into the sunset
An enormous red deer stag lumbering through the trees
A kudu peeking up at us from over a hill, careful not to be easily spotted

These are the moments that have always stuck with me while hunting, and it’s the part I wish more people understood. For every shot taken, there are hours spent wandering in the woods or watching from a blind where hunters get the unique opportunity to catch a glimpse of those animals’ world. I hope I can speak for all or most hunters when I say that this part is one of the best parts of hunting, and one of the reasons we advocate so much for protecting these animals, their food, and their habitats.

I asked Kate as we watched some gemsbok if she ever got used to seeing all of these exotic animals while guiding. She simply said no, and that it would be time to stop if she ever did. I hope I never get over watching animals in the wild, too.

High Fence Hunting Is What You Make It

Alright. Let’s address the elephant in the room on this post.

Or rather, the stupidly-huge-whitetail-deer-that-gets-harvested-from-a-stand-in-an-acre-sized-pen-with-nowhere-to-go-now-that-he’s-out-of-his-cage in the room.

This is the stereotype that is commonly attributed to high fence hunting, and they especially love to pin that stereotype on ranches in Texas. It’s hard to be Texan sometimes, y’all.

And you know what? I’m sure there are ranches out there like that, where you tell them what you want and as along as you can pay, they can guarantee that you will get that animal, and you probably won’t have to work very hard to get it. It’s a thing, unfortunately.

But the RANCH NAME HERE Ranch and Double S Outfitters is not that way. They have two 300 acre pastures with high fences that are meant to separate some of the species and because both pastures are at slightly different elevations; and within those pastures, the animals run free. There are no “pens”, and the stands are spread out to accommodate multiple hunters safely and without putting too much pressure on the animals at once. Even if Court’s blackbuck hunt had gone according to expectations, it was still a challenging hunt trying to spot and stalk a fast moving herd through 300 acres.

High fence hunting is real hunting. Say it with me: high fence hunting is real hunting.

It’s all about what you make of it, and that has been the golden rule that I have heard from multiple hunters who have gone on high fence hunts and had a blast. (Myself now included!)

For example, I could’ve told the guides that I wanted to sit in a deer stand, that I didn’t want to get up early, and I didn’t want to stay out too late. I probably wouldn’t have come home with an axis deer, but I could have made the actual hunting part way easier. Instead, I got up crazy early and got to see some amazing animals while seeking out an axis; I did my first spot-and-stalk hunt in my life and got to spend almost an entire day chasing chital through the hills of Texas. It’s become one of my favorite hunting experiences of all time, and it’s because I was up for anything and everything that we needed to do to be successful.

High fence hunting is real hunting.

I think the other side of making your high fence hunt what you want is going with a reputable outfitter and property (if you find the right outfitter, you’ll probably end up on the right ranch, too). Court had already hunted with Double S Outfitters back in December when he went with a group for a big hunting weekend, so he already knew that he was getting quality guide services from good people on a beautiful property.

Going on these hunts is a substantial financial investment, so do your homework! Ask around, and when you get recommendations, do some more digging; what are their reviews like? Check out their social media; what kinds of animals are they posting? Do you know multiple people who have hunted with them? What did they think?

Take those recommendations, reviews, and observations from your research and carefully choose the outfitter that you think will give you the best experience based on what you want. Court and I wanted a challenge, and that’s what we got! We also got two guides that worked extremely hard to get us on our target species and created a fun, welcoming atmosphere for the weekend.

I’ll say it one more time, just in case you didn’t get it; high fence hunting is real hunting AND it’s everything that you make it. Know what you want out of your exotic hunt and go find an outfitter that will make it happen!

In hindsight, I am so glad that I was wrong in pretty much all of my expectations of my first high fence exotic hunt. This easy “harvest” turned into a real challenge pitting us against the axis deer and blackbuck to see who would win the weekend. Even though we both walked away with animals, I wouldn’t say we “won”! Those exotic species were unlike any creature I’ve encountered on previous hunting trips in the most exciting way.

It’ll be awhile before we do another hunt like this, but I’m hopeful that I can say “when” we do another exotic hunt, and not “if”. These trips aren’t cheap, but they’re absolutely worth it. Besides, now that I’ve got my axis deer, I’ll have to come up with a new species to obsess over and target for our next exotic hunt!

In the meantime, we’ve got a freezer full of great meat and walls full of beautiful creatures that will be sure to start the exciting and wild tale of our first exotic hunt together.

Killers and Accomplices

“Come to think of it, we are all killers or accomplices,” Gennady Soloviev says as he works an ermine pelt. He has just come in from checking his traps along the Taiga River with his hunting dog in the middle of the Siberian winter.

Meanwhile, I am sitting on my couch in South Texas watching Werner Herzog’s documentary, “Happy People”, marinating in a little frustration after another unkind comment on one of my hunting posts on social media. Unfortunately, hate for hunters is pretty common online, and it’s something I’m still adjusting to on my social media pages.

But Gennady’s next words recapture my attention as he continues in his sage way about hunters and survival in Siberia.

“Even those people who are kind-hearted and tend to pity everything. Why? It’s very simple. A farmer keeps a pig… but he knows in advance what he keeps it for. In order to kill it and to eat it or sell its meat. And even the person who is sorry about all this buys the pork from him. And the trapper is the same as that pig farmer… only he is-how would you say it-more honest. Actually, it’s not even about honesty. This man knowingly raises-I used to raise cattle, and I could never bring myself to slaughter them. Because there is, say, a bull. You raise him for two years. It comes to you expecting you to show affection or give it some treat… and instead he gets a bullet in the head. In the Taiga, the Wild animal knows that no good can come from me, from a man. He tries to escape. Here, it’s about who outsmarts whom.”

For all farmers, ranchers, hunters, and trappers, an essential part of what we do involves taking a life. There is no way around it, and most of the people that I know do not particularly enjoy that part of what they do (myself included!). But, as Gennady says, I think it’s important that we are honest about what we do. That we acknowledge that in order for that beef steak, chicken breast, venison roast, pork rib, or any other cut of meat to appear on our plates, a life has to end.

I have no beef with farmers, hunters, trappers, or even vegetarians and vegans. In the same way that we as hunters are honest about what we do to get that meat onto our table, I know many vegetarians and vegans who are also honest about why it doesn’t get to theirs. For whatever their reasons for not eating meat or animal products, I have always respected that they are willing to stick to their morals and are ready to defend their choices. We don’t have to be on the same ends of the dietary spectrum to understand each other when it comes to standing up for ourselves and our beliefs.

No, Gennady’s words make me think of the people I know that are quick to attack me and other hunters for hunting, yet eat meat regularly. And this is where I think of the initial part of the quote that began this entire blog post: “we are all killers or accomplices.”

Sometimes, I want to ask those people where they think their meat comes from. Unless it’s tofu or some kind of meat substitute, it comes from animals. And those animals are no longer living.

Unfortunately, as an adult-onset hunter, I can understand where the “accomplices” are coming from. It wasn’t until my husband started taking me hunting that I truly understood the process of how meat goes from a living creature to the steak on my plate. The transformation from animal to meat can be a pretty shocking experience for someone who hasn’t grown up around it, and maybe this is where we have failed in educating the accomplices.

These are some cuts of venison that we processed at home! It certainly doesn’t look like this when you start!

As a society, we have become so detached from the source of our food that some people don’t even know that meat comes from animals. (I have legitimately talked to people that did not know where meat came from!) They don’t know how a cow becomes a hamburger, or even how a potato becomes a French fry. Maybe, the “killers”, if you will, need to change tactics. Maybe we need to focus less on arguing with the accomplices and more on educating them.

This is where our online presence is so important, hunters and farmers. This is why it’s important to stress the lifestyle and the why more than the “grip and grins” (even though we love those moments!). This is why it’s important to stay calm and civil when arguments inevitably break out in the comments. We are ambassadors to our own way of life and we aren’t going to bring others into the fold if we can’t show that it’s so much more than just the killing part.

And it is! There’s the time spent close to nature, the incredible food that comes from hard work, the fulfillment of providing for your family, and the stronger connection to our past. The “killing” part, while important, is just one part of a whole life that so many of us love living.

Maybe if they saw all the good behind what we do, they wouldn’t mind being our accomplices so much.

No matter which one you are, if this post finds you, I hope you’ll think a little bit about where the food you consume comes from. If you’re against killing, I hope you’ll do some research about hunting and fishing before condemning someone online, and that you’ll also consider the companies you support when purchasing meat. If you’re a vegetarian, I hope you’ll see a hunter as someone who is also strong in their convictions and maybe agree to disagree with us. And if you’re one of the “killers”, a hunter/trapper/farmer/rancher, I hope you’ll consider changing tactics when you approach an “accomplice”. We don’t always know what we don’t know, and sometimes we just need someone to reach out with a little kindness.

I’m happy for Gennady and his fellow trappers in Siberia that they have the support of their “accomplices” and that they fully understand who they are in their community. I hope that someday, hunters and trappers in America can live their lifestyle with a little more understanding from the “accomplices”, too.