Archive for category hunting

Sports/Exercise Report for May

May results set some good records. I was active 23 days, up from 20 in April, though below my record 25 days in November. Being out of town for my son’s college graduation was a welcome and happy break.

I played tennis or practiced during 17 days over 37 ¾ hours, which is up from last month’s 15 days/31 ¼ hours and is greater than my high of 16 days, though below my record of 41 ¾ hours. I was fairly tired the day I played with three different groups over 5 ¾ hours, and temperatures in the high 80’s and 90’s exhausted me. Many days I played tennis matches in the mornings and then hit balls with a friend in the afternoon. Forcing myself to fit in crunches is the ultimate challenge, and I usually failed at it.

My nine crunch session equaled my high in December. I set a new record of three sets of 450 (1350 total), up from my previous record of 1050 total in January. Then to vary my routine, I started just doing different stomach exercises for 30 minutes a session. We’ll see if I can fill in that one missing muscle, because I really only have a feeble five-pack at the moment. I was told that if you don’t change your routine, your muscles get used to it and don’t grow as much. Jason Statham’s abs still look better than mine.

There were also two squash sessions for two hours total, way below my record of 8 days and 7 ½ hours. I went bow and arrow hunting for wild turkeys four times for 19 hours and also spent two days (3 ½ hours) chain sawing shooting lanes and clearing trails in the woods. Never even took a shot though this year. Too few birds. And two few weight lift days—just two. But my wrist and shoulders are healing—even swam some butterfly laps yesterday and felt no shoulder pain.

Sports/Exercise Report

April results were a bit inhibited by a sore back for 10 days. I only had 20 days of sports and ab crunch activity, down from 21 in March and a record of 25 physically active days in November My crunch sessions totaled eight, up from just four in each of the last two months (my record is nine crunch sessions in December). I did increase to 1000 total-in-a session ball crunches (three sets) up from highs of 750 in March and 550 in February, but below my record 1050 in January.

For the month I played tennis 15 days and 31.25 hours, up from last month (record is 16 days and 41 3/4 hours), squash two days and 2 hours (record is 8 days and 7.5 hours), practiced archery twice and went hunting for turkeys with a bow once for seven hours. I also lifted weights at home three times.

It’s nice to see my abs showing again and to be improving my tennis game with more outdoor practice possible. Spring is definitely here at last.

Hunting On Easter

I organized a hunt yesterday for around 20 friends and family members. My kids traveled as much as six hours round trip to be part of the event. There was food and drinks and even a cake with candles, because today is my birthday. I have made it this far…69 years. What a treat. I am grateful to be alive, to have lived this long, to still be journeying and celebrating.

This morning I forced myself to do 700 crunches (300 bicycles and 400 non-stop balls) after warming up with a brisk 1500 meters of indoor rowing.

Oh yes, that hunt: it was for plastic Easter eggs, about 100 of them, hidden in the cracks between stones in old walls, under plants, in the branches of trees and bushes. It’s a lot of fun. And great exercise. I spent over an hour planting these multi-colored symbols of spring and new beginnings, stooping and bending, keeping my Springer Spaniel from eating the candies stuffed inside. In a warm year like this one, I worked up quite a sweat.

When everyone had arrived, and I shouted “GO!” to launch the egg search, the energy release is a mini-explosion . The kids run like crazy in all different directions, but the adults and post-teen children are running as well, either helping the little ones or competing with them unashamedly. You ever try keeping up with a five-year-old racing for candy? Not easy, bless their little hearts. And they are tireless. No one ever has “enough.”

Then I walk around for another half hour checking all the spots. You’d be amazed how many eggs are missed that are right out in the open. People just pass by them. No wonder I can’t see a tennis ball at 100 mph, when the average human eye walks by a static object without noticing its existence. And every time I announce that there is still another egg to be found, the crowd rushes and crushes to my general vicinity to seek out the missed prize.

Lots of laughs. The downed “game” is devoured within an hour, along with the cake—I had three pieces—and ice cream for those who reward themselves for such an active workout.

Who says exercise helps you lose weight? Not on Easter Sunday or your birthday.

hunters and game—4/4/10

hunters and game—4/4/10

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Exercise/Sport Report

David Beckham shows off abs for Armani ad—2009

David Beckham shows off abs for Armani ad—2009

I am now addicted. Maybe it’s endorphins that are kicking in. I read that they can be as powerful as morphine. I have become a sportaholic or exercisaholic. I am astonishingly fit, hardly tire, barely sweat (it is 40-50 degrees outside the indoor tennis courts I play on these days).

In just 25 November days, I have done the following:

Tennis—played 15 times, some sessions for three hours of singles and doubles

Squash—played, mostly practiced 6 times, three in a clinic, each session one hour.

Hunting—3 times, average of three hours each time

Zumba—once

Crunches—9 times, some slow, some sloppy but 500-700 most times

Lat pulldowns—6 times

I am now an exercise junky. Read the rest of this entry »

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How To Catch And Cook A Pheasant

Went hunting for pheasant twice last week. With a double-barreled, side-by-side, 1929 American-made (an L.C. Smith), 20-gauge shotgun that has art deco, large-leaf engravings. Five and a half hours walking in swamps, mud, cornfields, hayfields, woods, brooks and briars. Joyfully watching two friends’ dogs sniff and search for birds. There are now two pheasants and a quail in the freezer that I prepared for Thanksgiving dinner.

Ira, Blitz the German Shorthaired Pointer, and shotgun get the birds—11/10/09

Ira, Blitz the German Shorthaired Pointer, and shotgun get the birds—11/10/09


Pheasants and quail caught for Thanksgiving dinner—11/10/09

Pheasants and quail caught for Thanksgiving dinner—11/10/09

Non-hunters can never know the glorious hearts of canine breeds that find those still and silent birds. These pets track bird scent with the grace of ballerinas and have almost inexhaustible energy. When close, some dogs freeze, point and wait for the bird to bolt…or the hunter to prod the prey into the air, where it rockets suddenly at 40 to 60 miles per hour. Hopefully a retrieval follows.

Other dogs, like my English Springer Spaniel, Bella, are flushers. They track and do the bump as well. You just have to keep them relatively near by, because the shotgun only has an effective range of 35 or 40 yards. The pointers can wander all over, maybe a football field away. Some will stay motionless with nose aiming at the pheasant for 20 minutes. Then the hunter has plenty of time to close in for the shot. But a flusher out of range is a real frustration. You just watch the birds fly away, and curse, and yell at your dog.

As I mentioned in my bird stocking post (http://www.irasabs.com/?p=2430), the pheasants have a much better chance than chickens raised for supermarkets. In fact on the second day, during four hours of hunting, my friend and I fired at five pheasants and a woodcock, but only took one pheasant home.

My English Springer Bella after a swim—6/11/08

My English Springer Bella after a swim—6/11/08

Bella was lame for many months, so she hasn’t hunted for two years. She now seems healed. Hopefully we can search the fields together soon. She loves to romp and jump. She gets so excited when I take out the neck bell that helps me locate her as she scours the bushes and grasses. It is grown-up Hide and Seek.

For the birds the stakes are high. It is not a game. Yet they would probably not be alive in the first place if there weren’t hunting clubs eager to purchase them. Over 10 million pheasants are raised each year. It is an annual ritual anticipated by two million American hunters. These sportsmen welcome the challenge, the camaraderie, the preparation of the birds and the various recipes. My favorite way to cook pheasants is double-basted in raw eggs and flour, sauteed and topped with strawberry liqueur.

art deco shotgun engraving

art deco shotgun engraving

I only learned to hunt as an adult after I moved from Manhattan to Connecticut in 1990. Read the rest of this entry »

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Helluva Week For Physical Stuff—From A (abs) to Z (zumba)

Back home to normal life: signing checks, initiating roof replacement, selling a horse. But still awed with the increased physical activity of the last week. I will post specifics later of my time:

hot tubbing with Palm Beach girls,
eating enough desserts in Florida to gain five pounds,
swimming in the country’s biggest hotel pool,
tennis playing/practice (four times in six days),
squash practice twice, including a one-hour group lesson,
ab crunch workouts twice,
practicing archery for upcoming hunting of wild turkeys,
two gym visits for mi latissimi,
Zumba dancing with 26 mostly Latina ladies,
skipping Connecticut meals and exercising enough to lose five pounds,
driving a newly-leased, “brilliant red” car like I was on the race track, and
making 25 green-headed, red-faced, white-ring-necked pheasants feel drunk, so they wouldn’t fly away as I set them in bushes.

I am determined to rebuild my abs and play better squash and tennis, and this burst of body energy better jump-start the effort.

How To Make A Pheasant Feel Drunk

(For those who hunt pheasants, it is necessary that there be pheasants to hunt. Few are wild in most states, so the birds are purchased and hidden in the fields. This article describes the hiding experience, called “stocking.” To see what happens next, the hunting is explained in this more recent report: http://www.irasabs.com/?p=2803)

This is a secret known by many of the nation’s 2,000,000 pheasant hunters who chase after 10,000,000 pheasants raised on U.S. farms. These red-faced, green-headed, white-ring-necked birds are then sold to hunting clubs, hidden in bushes, sniffed out by specially trained dogs who point and flush, so that men with shotguns can pull triggers, down the game, and utilize much-talked-about recipes to cook delicious meals. In the United Kingdom, 35 million pheasants are raised annually.

ring-necked pheasants

ring-necked pheasants


So I want you to imagine how many times a year what I am going to describe takes place. It is a primitive practice as old as the wind that is totally unimaginable to almost all city dwellers, suburbanites and the majority of rural inhabitants. It has shades of voodoo and witchcraft, talking in tongues and reading the runes.

As the sun headed for the horizon on October 30th, I put on my high-calf boots and heavy gloves and headed out with a friend to “stock” pheasants in fields for the hunters who would search for the birds come Halloween morning with their spirited dogs and menacing guns. There were 10 birds to a cage, a mixture of brilliantly feathered roosters and dully-tan, camouflaged hens, and we would transport four cages to four different locations (five to 30+ acres each) in a soon to be mud-spattered, white, 4-wheel drive pickup truck.

Bouncing on rocks and over dips, avoiding the scratching brambles and who-knows-how-deep puddles from two-days-ago rain, we drive cautiously on bush-hogged trails, across streams, through shorn cornfields, and in pastures. We are looking for scattered sites to hide the birds from tomorrow’s predators. Our mission is to place 40 birds down gently in the woods, under bushes, beneath fallen trees. And keep them there. Read the rest of this entry »

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Vladimir Putin Needs To Work On His Abs Too!

vladimir putin needs work on his abs—8/09

vladimir putin needs work on his abs—8/09

The Russian Prime Minister is an incredible athlete, so it may be nervy to comment on his physique. Nevertheless, now that I am aware of a good ab from a not-so-great ab, I would like to suggest that he work on his stomach area a bit as well. And you can look at my post of June 17th to compare President Obama’s mid-section with that of the Russian leader: The Battle of the Stomachs…much better than the Battle of the Bulge(s).

Vladimir Putin has buffed up his action-man image and raised the pin-up stakes among world leaders by posing barechested for another set of holiday pictures.
Photographs were published yesterday showing the Russian Prime Minister stripped to the waist riding a horse through rugged terrain during a brief holiday in the Siberian region of Tuva. Wearing only green fatigues, his eyes hidden behind reflective sunglasses, Mr Putin also showed his gentler side as he fed the horse from his hand after the ride.

The former KGB officer, a mountain skier and judo black belt, is a fitness fanatic who regularly starts his day with weight training in the gym and swimming in his country residence outside Moscow.

putin butterflying—great arms

putin butterflying—great arms

Mr Putin, who will be 57 in October, showed off a set of rippling arm muscles as he demonstrated his butterfly swimming stroke. The photos will inevitably trigger mass swooning by women all over Russia — as well as unfavourable comparisons of their husbands to Mr Putin’s manly physique. They will also confirm the Russian Prime Minister’s status as a gay icon.

Mr Putin camped overnight and went whitewater rafting down the region’s fast-flowing rivers, according to Russian news agencies. Other pictures show him walking through fields with a hat similar to that worn by Indiana Jones, the Hollywood adventurer. Read the rest of this entry »

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Can You Make Sudden Changes of Heart and Mind?

I had a real confrontation yesterday morning that is worth mentioning as an example of how hard it is to change your mind and be flexible. I’ll detail it in a moment.

There are many people who want constant stimulation and excitement. They go from one party to the next, maybe three in a day, play tennis in the morning and golf in the afternoon. Hopefully you, like me, have seen three movies in a row. But some of us, and I am one of those folks, need a little space between the highs. A breather. A time to reflect, or at least digest, the great times we were just fortunate enough to experience.

I admit that I am able to spend time alone and not feel lonely. I know personality types who are energized by being in crowds or groups. Still others could almost be despondent if they had no plans to socialize on a Saturday night. They boast gleefully that they were invited to an exclusive party or to so many Christmas celebrations that they are basically bar hopping. Or that they are already planning, and possibly taking, yet another vacation after only eight weeks.

Some will admit that being alone makes them think too much about their lives and problems. They need to be constantly distracted by external events that demand their attention or interaction. Maybe they can never be satisfied for long, by either one partner, one house, one play or just one restaurant meal a day or a week. And I am not saying that anyone should be. We are all different people with various personalities. That is part of the richness of meeting people and having new adventures.

Ok. What was my confrontation? Read the rest of this entry »

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Mother Nature Gets Even and Has a Tick Attack Me From Behind

The turkey is cooking as I write. Friends will come over to taste wild turkey for their first time. It is nothing like a domestic bird. I have marinated the turkey for two days in garlic, oil, white wine. It smells great.

before cooking

before cooking

The day of the hunt, Wednesday, I went to the gym. Nothing special. I was pretty tired. But at least I made it there–workout number 7 for the month.

On Thursday the 28th, I did 50 push ups again, 10 breaths, 10 more, 10 breaths, and 6 more. I wrote and rested.

Then Mother Nature got even with a smile. In the afternoon, I felt a sharp pin prick near my butt. I touched, my wife looked, and there was a tick, locked in a potentially harmful 36-hour kiss. It was hidden between my cheeks! And that was why I had missed it when I’d done my “tick check” with a mirror. Clever guy. He also knew how to conceal himself from the prey…which was me. And I was worried about the coyote jumping me from behind. A tiny tick did it.

Every time I come out of the woods, I unfailingly examine myself for ticks within three hours. I have been told that if you remove them within 24 hours, there is probably going to be no problem—not enough time for the insect’s saliva to make much of a difference. After a day, there is more danger of getting Lyme disease or another very serious bacterial infection called ehrlichiosis.

So if I got a bird, a tick got me. I have many friends who have been sickened by these bites, and in addition to dizziness, fatigue, fever, aches, some have had facial distortions, lost memory for years…it can be bad. So it goes.

I knew I had really adapted to country life when I could walk in the woods and tall grass and be OK about spending a few minutes taking 20 or more ticks off my clothes and skin. I felt I had arrived.

I have city friends who drove to our farm, got out of the car, stood on the driveway and unabashedly placed their pants inside their socks, sprayed insect repellent containing DEET on their clothes, and then walked on the driveway pebbles into the house. Fortunately I have learned to love the woods and live with its risks. And I have never even seen a bear or a mountain lion…just coyotes and bobcats, like this one a friend photographed at the same farm where I shot this week’s turkey.

bobcat

bobcat (photo by Rudy Kellerman)


Read the rest of this entry »

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Using Tennis Advice So That Ira Can Finally Drop His Turkey

I shot a turkey yesterday morning, only the second time with a bow in eight years (that’s 16 seasons).

first bird with a bow in five years—5/27/09

first bird with a bow in five years—5/27/09

Before I describe the whole hunt in another post (which may not interest you), I want to tell you how tennis prowess and peak performance was used in my turkey hunting. And I think it can be applied to other sports as well. This had all been explained the day before by my friend and tennis coach, Frank, when I asked him what allowed the very top players to dominate the game.

One squash coach told me (see April 21st post) that it’s easy to swing the racquet perfectly, but adding a ball that you’re supposed to hit on the swing changes the dynamic enormously. Similarly, aiming at and hitting a stationary, life size, 3-D turkey target is one challenge. But shooting a moving, walking turkey that might see you raise your bow and fly or turn away from you at any second is totally different.

Turkey stories aside, and in accordance with Frank Adam’s advice, I was able somehow to enter a kind of numbness or zone. I was on automatic, totally instinctual. I never calculated distance to the bird, the angle down, what the horizontal length was (see the May 2nd post about Bow and Arrow Lessons). It all just sorta, kinda happened. I wish I could explain it. Read the rest of this entry »

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My Perfect Turkey Hunt (Non-Hunters May Want to Skip This Post Except For The Type In Boldface Below)

The most amusing thing about this hunt was how many things went wrong. When I woke at 3:30, I could hear the raindrops on the roof and down the gutters. I put on a bathrobe and went outside to actually feel how bad it was. Only slight. I would be drenched and cold by the end of the morning. But the season ends on the 30th, so I had run out of time.

Once at the farm where I hunt, I walked through wet grass in the hayfield that was up to my waist. Damp and chilled already in 43 degrees darkness. A quarter mile later I am in the forest at meadow’s edge, decoy set up. I wait an hour for light and the first gobbles. Nothing, but cold.

After another 30 minutes, I give up, assuming there are no turkeys in this roost where they often spend the night. Just as I put my arrows back in the quiver, I hear the cluck of a tom, already on the ground and looking for a hen. I talk to him for 20 minutes, trying to attract him in my direction. I never see him, but do hear a hen come in toward him swooning and then the quick fluttering and clacking as they mate briefly. More silence.

At last I do give up, stand and walk towards a pasture. Shockingly, after I move 25 yards, two birds fly away. One goes southwest and the other northeast. I head toward the bird to the north, laughing at how they laughed at me. Maybe watched me. Usually by this time, they would have been on the ground for over an hour…at some distance if they were nervous at my presence. Bad enough they didn’t make a sound. So much for all my patience. Maybe the drizzle and cloudiness kept them in the trees so much longer.

Anyway I circle around and never spot the bird to the north, even after creeping slowly past the openings to two pastures. Along the way, I almost step into three coyote scat markings. Continuing to the west, I do see the bird who went south. He is three fields away, at least 200 yards, and making a gobble that is more like a baby gurgling. Subdued and as if he has a berry stuck in his throat. Nothing firm and resonant.

I consider circling around through the forest behind me, so that I can move 100 yards closer to him off to the right. But my instinct orders me to just stay put near where I am. So I get into position on the edge of the forest, next to the second pasture, behind a tree but a foot wide. I cut some bushes in front of me with clippers and wait to see what will happen.

Just then a young scrawny deer darts out to my left, pauses, walks about five yards in front of me and heads along a trail to my right. I thought she would smell me and bolt, but she moves easily, and neither starts nor stops. Ahhh, the surprises from Mother Nature.

Meanwhile the turkey has continued moving in my direction and cleared a stone wall. He is about 150 yards away.

Next a real surprise. A coyote comes along, following the deer gradually. Again just five yards away. I am waiting for him to sniff my presence. But I am invisible to him too. Maybe the wind is blowing towards me, so that my scent is behind me. At this point I am a tiny bit nervous. I’d rather not have a hungry coyote face -off and have to pull a knife. The hunter might become the hunter.

coyote

coyote

One time years ago when I was calling toms with the sound of a hen in heat, a coyote stalked me. When I stood up to see what was making the sound on the leaves, I was staring at a coyote three yards away ready to spring. And I had no weapon in hand for defense. We looked in each other’s eyes for what seemed like 10 or 15 seconds. Then he turned and ran off. I didn’t like being so helpless. Though these animals weigh about 40 pounds and look like mangy dogs, I have seen the deer and sheep they have killed with a bite and rip to the throat.

But this time nothing happened. Although I was listening a bit for sounds from behind.
Read the rest of this entry »

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A Footnote for Those Who Abhor Hunting

I know that some of you are willing to eat meat and fowl, but would never think of killing the animals yourself. I understand and respect that point of view. I once took an Aikido workshop with a master from Japan. He said he thanked every grain of rice for giving up its life, so that he could be sustained. My turkey is already plucked and dressed and marinating in the refrigerator for a big meal of gratitude this weekend. I hope this makes my experience a little bit more acceptable to you.

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Can You Serve a Tennis Ball While on Your Knees? Or Win Points by Walking or Not Moving?

Went to a pro squash match in Wilton CT. These players rank from 56 to 120 or so, and the quality of their game was way above college level. They can really whack the ball and retrieve seemingly impossible shots. Lots of long rallys. However I have to say the general play was not as strong as the other pro match I saw, when some players were as high as 24 or 36.

I’d invited a former college roommate to meet me there. Michael had never before seen a squash match. His droll comment was that “You had to be in pretty good shape to play this game.” It definitely takes endurance and flexibility. He did say he had heard over the years of heavyset guys who could place the ball so well that they won points and games in spite of their inability to move very fast or for long.

He also told me about a grossly overweight tennis coach in high school he would watch who could just stand in the middle of the court, barely move his feet, switch the racket from one hand to the other, and then win many points against his students. It was because he could place the ball so perfectly. Hard to imagine, even though I face excellent placement from many of the older guys I play doubles with. This coach would also SERVE from the baseline ON HIS KNEES, again to emphasize that you don’t need a powerful serve to win points. Just place the ball with great dexterity.

I’ve played against a guy who shifts the racket back and forth between hands. Weird. So I can vouch for that skill. But what do you think? Can anyone be even a decent competitor without a strong service game? Read the rest of this entry »

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You Have to Take a Shot or at Least Hit the Ball Over the Net

Up at 3:45 am to be settled in the woods before first light, which is now around 4:40. I am determined to harvest—don’t you love that politically correct word—a tom turkey eventually. One position, no movement for an hour, waiting for the birds to come out of the trees. I was about to give up…then my patience was rewarded: one lone hen flew down too far away. Still glad I out-waited her. Still glad I woke up so early.

In a nearby hayfield I called in three toms to my woods. (You make the sounds of a hen to appeal to the tom’s mating urge.) One approached my clucks curiously. He was only 25 yards away, but between two trees just two feet apart. There were lots of small branches to dodge between him and me. The opening might only have been a few inches. It would have to be a Robin Hood shot that only Kevin Costner can do in his movie. Licking the arrow feathers (the fletching) like Kevin did in the film might have helped. I decided to wait for a better shot. The bird turned away, and I never saw him again.

I should have taken what I had. I gambled and lost. How often do we do this in our lives? Wait for something that might be better? Girlfriends. Wives. Jobs. Business opportunities. So many times we pass up our chance for now and curse ourselves later when we realize what we missed

My first tennis coach said that you have to first hit the ball over the net. That is 50% of how you win the point. Even if it is a poor shot that your opponent smashes right past you for his winner. Hitting into the net is a sure loser.

Now no one hits into the net intentionally. Read the rest of this entry »

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A Week of Casual Conditioning—Frisbee, Tennis, Squash, Beach Running, Hiking After Turkeys

It’s been a busy week. I went to NY City last Wednesday (the 6th) to pick up my son from the end of his junior college year. I thought I could take it easy when we arrived home. However within five minutes of returning from my seven-hour round trip and unloading the car, I was “invited” to play Frisbee. Turns out my son wants to try out for the NYU Ultimate Frisbee team next fall and needs to practice. It was too good a chance to bond with my boy, so I re-learned how to throw and catch. I still have some bruises almost a week later.

After an hour of running after the spinning disc—no leaps, jumps and falls—I gave up and admitted I was tired. I had really been pushing hard and hoping he would want to stop first. In fact he played for another hour with his friend who happened to drop by shortly after I called it quits.

The next morning I was playing tennis doubles for 90 minutes, then an hour plus of practicing my spin serve with one person. My tennis game is really improving. Yet I am impressed that players who are not as good as I am overall are very comfortable correcting my game. And you know what—they often make good points, even if I think that I should be the one giving advice.

Then I fit in an hour of squash practice—mostly return of backhand serve. Read the rest of this entry »

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You Need to Keep on Exploring Even If You Keep Receiving Different Advice From Different “Experts”

Well it’s been a month, and I am still exercising and playing sports. Blogging—even just to myself, because I haven’t yet designed my web site—is forcing me to stay on track. And also knowing that I am going to go public puts some good pressure on me. I know that I am improving.

Yesterday I fired some arrows, lost one in the grass, missed the target lots of times…until I finally started hitting it. Later in the afternoon, I even scouted the farm I was going to hunt this morning, when the turkey season started for three weeks.

I woke up at 4:15, but it was raining pretty hard, so I went back to sleep—no fun sitting in the rain when it is 40 degrees. At 6:40 three toms (males) were gobbling in my garden 25 feet from the bedroom window! Sounded like they were laughing at my laziness and worries about a little rain—did I think I was going to melt? Didn’t that happen to one of those wicked witches in the Wizard of Oz?

Yesterday I also took another squash lesson, this time from the head coach at another prep school only 30 minutes away. Read the rest of this entry »

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Two Basic Life Lessons from the Bow and Arrow.

Some more thoughts about the importance of practicing correctly that come to mind when you use the bow and arrow. When you draw the arrow and string back, you should repeatedly place the same part of your hand that is holding the string on the same spot of your cheek. It is called the anchor point. That way for every shot, your eye is always looking at the target when there is a constant relationship among the bow, arrow, and the released arrow’s flight path.

My initial practice each season is out in the open, with nothing between me and the target. I am always kneeling, because that is how I will be positioned on the hunt. Once I am able to hit the target consistently—and I do this by finding the same anchor point for each shot—I change my location. I was smart enough all these years to realize that I had to be behind a tree when drawing the bow on a real turkey—if I drew out in the open, the bird would see the motion. So I’ve practiced shooting from behind a tree. First I draw slowly with maximum concealment. Then I lean over to the right, peering gradually to minimize my movement and still see my prey. And then I often miss the 3-D target and in the field the live bird.

What I noticed three days ago is that as I leaned over, I was not making sure that my hand was connecting with my anchor point. So my alignment was off, and I was shooting high and/or wide. Lots of frustration. But then I figured it out. Lesson to be learned: re-examine what might be going wrong when things aren’t going right. I have “only” been hunting with a bow for maybe eight years. No wonder I have taken just one bird in all that time.

The other technique I learned recently is that when shooting down at the bird from a higher elevation, like a hill, one should NOT aim based on the actual distance between me and the turkey. Pretend it is less, and shoot as if it is less.

I was complaining to an engineer friend of mine who bow hunts how often my arrows went over the bird’s back. Read the rest of this entry »

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What Hunters Like About Hunting

Was determined to reach the gym—need two more visits this month to make eight total. But also wanted to practice archery in preparation for the turkey-hunting season, which starts on May 6th. So at 6:30 pm, I went out to the life-size, three-dimensional rubber turkey target and fired off a few arrows for the first time since last fall.

The first two hit the bird; then I started missing. In the second group of eight arrows, only three hit the target. But by the end, 8/8 were in the turkey. This is really good for me. So I stopped and raced off to the gym, which stays open until 10 pm.

I learned how to hunt in Connecticut (many many men do it here) with a shotgun in the early 90’s. My neighbor used to own a hunting and fishing shop, and he introduced me to this aspect of rural life. I discovered that I loved the outdoors, the silence, the aloneness, the commune with nature, bumping into deer and coyotes and bobcats and many birds singing their different songs. I learned that I loved the taste of wild turkey, which is nothing like a domestically raised bird. I loved the challenge of finding the turkey, calling it in close with a noisemaker that simulates a real bird, hitting it, plucking it, gutting and dressing it and learning the different ways to cook it.

It’s all part of a hunting/gathering tradition that humans have known for thousands of years, and almost all city-folks are totally unaware of. I felt like I was connecting with my roots, my past, unknown ancestors and the present natural world at the same time. I must confess that I was such a city guy, so naive and uninformed about the outdoors, that I did not realize until I was 46 that birds had different sounding songs that could be used to identify them. Can you believe that? I am still astonished that I was so out of touch with Mother Nature. Read the rest of this entry »

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