Evolution of a Bowhunter: Part Three

Editor's Note:  It's time for the third and final installment.  It is a little longer than the first two but I did that for a reason.  It seemed hard to break it and Clint's closing section to his story is a powerful one.  I wanted it to sink in and I believe it should...as it did for me.

For a little refresher, the last paragraph of Part Two are italicized below.  Enjoy folks, one more chapter to go after this read...

From Part Two:

Then I told him I shot at a doe but could not tell if I hit her or not. So he went down to the spot where my bolt was and it was caked with blood. What a relief! Not only a success but I’m sure I’d have to reference another yawning in jest…either way the boys back at the camp would have really got a kick out of it. Anyway it didn't take him long before he found her. We got all of my stuff ready to go in and we headed back to his pickup. It was still daylight so we decided to field dress her right there instead of back at camp. I usually wouldn't tell you about the gutting but there is a point. When we were looking at the entry and exit wounds we noticed that it was real low and we wondered what I hit. After looking through the organs we noticed that there was a perfect three blade slice right through the middle of the heart. So we saved the heart and brought it back to the camp for the guys to see. When we got back to the camp I told the guys I always hit what I'm aiming at. I had to get back at them for them ribbing the night before. By the way I still have the heart in my freezer if you want to see what I was aiming at...

Evolution of a Bowhunter:  Part Three

First buck shot with crossbow with the bolt.

The next year I set my sights higher and decided that I was going to shoot a buck no matter what. That season I did most of my hunting around the farm. There was quite a few deer around and quite a few bucks. That year a friend of mine also gave me one of his old trail cameras. One of the greatest inventions for a hunter in many years. You not only know what kind of deer and how big, but you know what time and what deer come in at certain times. I believe that year I went out around 30 times and I believe I saw deer every time. I was greatly hunting just north of the house or on a abandoned farmyard southwest about 2 miles. While hunting that year I had many firsts. The first thing that I saw that I had never seen before was a droptine buck. It was at the old farmyard. He wasn't that big but the two other bachelors he was with were enormous. A friend of mine got one of them and he is on his wall. The night I encountered them I had a chance to shoot all of them. The only problem was the farmyard is right next to a road, within 20 yards. And wouldn't you know what when they were coming into range of vehicle had to drive by. I hunted in that spot for the next two weeks and never see them again. During that two weeks I also saw for the first time while hunting with a bowl, a coyote. I remember there were a couple of does in front of me and all of a sudden they started looking at me. But I could tell they were not looking at me, it was something behind me. Then I noticed to my side within 20 yards Mr. Coyote. Talk about an adrenaline rush. I knew he wasn't going to attack me but still seeing a predator that close is pretty neat. I forgot that year I also hunted in Herman's belt. This brings me to my last of my firsts.

Earlier that summer while watching the outdoor channel I saw a guy using a grunt tube that would work for me. It is like any other grunt tube, but it has a long tube attached to it, so I've mounted it on my crossbow. So that year I learned a lot about grunting. When you should start, how long and how loud. It really depends on the situation, the time of season, the number of deer around and if you can do it without being detected. That year I probably scared more deer away grunting them I actually attracted, but I guess that is how you learn. The first, ever had a buck grunt back at me was in Herman's. There were deer a couple of hundred yards away in a cornfield that I was trying to bring in. All of a sudden behind me within 5 yards I heard a buck grunt at me. It scared the crap out of me because I didn't expect it behind me and it was so close. I'd jumped when I heard it and of course the hightailed it down the belt at about 40 mph.

Later that year, I believe it was the end of October I was hunting north of the house quite a bit. I had seen on my trail camera a couple of bucks nothing to brag about but they were out there. In the belt I was hunting there was also quite a few rubs and scrapes, always a good sign. The night I shot my first buck, I remember it like yesterday. I set up next to a trail that intersected the belt and right in front of a rub. There was quite a few does eating in the bean field in front of me. I knew it wouldn't be long and they would be going for a drink at the artesian well that was behind me about 150 yards. All of a sudden they started working their way towards me, about 13 does. You might think it is good to have that many deer around but it is just the opposite when you are in the ground blind. Too many eyes, especially the older does tend to bust you. But that night they were more concerned about the buck behind them.

As the 13 does filed by me I could hear the buck to my left grunt and snort with his head on the ground trailing the does in heat. He was at a pretty good trot and before I knew it he went by my shooting lane by about 10 yards. So I give a little grunt and he popped his head up came back to my lane and poked his head in the belt. He was aiming right at me so all I had was his chest to shoot at, probably just under 30 yards. But I decided to let him have it. I saw it enter right about his sternum. He jumped back and started running across the field. He stopped at about 30 yards and I could tell he was struggling. Then he went on his death run for only about another 30 yards and tipped over.

A half hour passed and it was then I decided to call my mom on her cell. When she got out there she was pretty pumped up and wanted to track him. I told her to wait and I would call up Lucas and my dad to help find him and drag him out. But while I was calling them up she had already found him.

When we were gutting him we could not find the arrow. We looked through everything and could not find it. We thought for sure it would be stuck in him because it wasn't going to make it all away through the other end, that's for sure. Also I remember when we were taking pictures with him he was the smelliest buck I had ever smelt. He was really into the rut; his glands must've been working overtime. Anyway we brought him to town to the meat locker and had a couple of celebratory drinks. The next day I went back out and try to find the bolt and it was lying right where he stopped where he began to show weakness. Anyway, he wasn't the biggest buck but he was my first and I will always remember that. He is on my wall as we speak. Thanks to Don B., he did a European mount for me.

The next year's hunting season was pretty slow. There wasn't much of deer out in my territory for some reason. So that year I did a lot of hunting down on the tree farm. I believe I hunted just about every inch of the tree farm that year. I got to know the place pretty well. Got to know the habits of the deer and could probably name a couple of them because I saw them so often. Earlier that spring I also got my first turkey tag. I really didn't get into turkey hunting that much. I don't know why, but it is still fun to get out of the house and into the woods. That year I had a couple disappointments down on the farm. I remember one time I grunted a buck across the alfalfa field. He was coming right into me but that is when my mom decided to pick me up. I passed up quite a few shots down there that year. And I remember it was quite cold also that year.

In December and I decided to do it in a whirl again. This time I brought my mom and her camera which has video along. It was so cold we decided to hunt from the small tower which also had the feeder in front of it. I knew it would only be a matter of time and it didn't take long. There had to have been around 30 deer mingling around in front of me so I decided to take the biggest doe I could see. It was about a 30 yard shot and she ran about 100 yards and tipped over. Not a very exciting story but it is the first time that I caught a hunt on video.

I believe the next year I did not get anything. I'm not sure but that might've been a year I was in the hospital for a couple of months in the fall. I should've wrote this story then, or at least jotted down some notes. That is when I think I wrote this story. It doesn't have to do anything with hunting, but you will see for yourself. I wrote it when I got out of the hospital.

The year after my hiatus from hunting there was again not much for deer in my neck of the woods. So I hunted a lot down on the tree farm again. In my years of hunting down there I started to notice some areas that seem to get more buck activity than others. The spot that I now hunt down there most the time is called, "Clint's spot." It is on the south side of the farm in some tall pines alongside a dirt path. It does look like a good spot, but every time I sit there there's always something coming or going onto the big field. That year I also started doing morning hunts. I should've started doing this earlier in my career because there is something about hunting the morning. I do not know what it is; maybe it is just because it is so quiet most of the time with hunting in the morning? The only problem is I sometimes think you scare more deer getting into your spot then you would do in an afternoon hunt.

Lucas and I after the buck I shot at the tree farm.

Like most years down on the tree farm I had a lot of encounters with bucks but somehow I was always the wrong spot. So I decided to hit my spot because I knew somebody would eventually come by that I wanted to harvest. The day I shot my second buck I was in my spot pretty early in the afternoon. The day before right in front of me in the swamp I watched four bucks size each other up for about 45 minutes. All they did was walk around stiff legged and strut their stuff. That day I had a chance to shoot one of them but they would not come in all the way. He was about 3 yards away from being skewered. I believe all that were 4x4's. Anyway back to the day after. I hadn't been sitting there long when a doe and two fawns walked by within 10 feet. As soon as they left I noticed the movement to my right. It was a little 3 x 3 basket buck that had a limp. He came right down the path and stood in front of me eating some well-placed crabapples for about 10 minutes and I noticed he was still favoring his front leg. So I decided to shoot him. Anyway he was so close around 7 yards that I shot a little too high but I knew I hit him. He turned and ran through the swamp and I heard in crash about 70 yards away but could not see him. So I called up my tracker a.k.a. mom and she was on the scene within 30 minutes. Because I shot him hi there was no blood trail so it was going to be a tough track. But she was determined to find him and went on her way just tracking his actual tracks through the fallen leaves. I thought she might need some help so I called up Lucas and he was there with Nikki in no time. And by the time they got there wouldn't you know it, mom had already found him. He does not have a big rack by any means but he was a big bodied deer. Kevin the landowner, Shelie my sister and my dad also came down to help celebrate.

A closer look. Not very big, but he tasted good.

The year of disappointment would be the title of 2009. But I guess there was some good that came out of it when I look back. It started in the spring when I was looking for new bolts for my crossbow. Evidently Barnett and other manufacturers decided not to make 16 inch bolts anymore. Coincidentally that is what I shoot. I had about six left from last year but after a summer of shooting 3-D targets down at the tree farm you eventually lose some. Especially shooting at the antelope at 55 yards. After searching the Internet for guys who make bolts/arrows, finally found a guy in West Virginia. His web site looked pretty legit and product reasonably priced. The only problem was that he is used to making 20 inch instead of 16 inch. It is the more complicated than just cutting 4 inches off. I found out you need to check the balance of the arrow. It is literally rocket science, not kidding. So he had me send a bolt to him that I liked and he would match it. I believe it only took a couple of weeks and they were in the mail. They are the best bolts I've ever shot and will order all of my bolts from him from now on.

The bolts came the Thursday before bow season started. Not much time to practice and get used to them, but I managed to shoot them so I was comfortable out to 40 yards.

The first Saturday of the season a buddy of mine shot a 4x4 in velvet down the Kathryn Valley. Ham had been seeing a lot of big deer down there on his trail camera. And I mean a lot there was a couple of 5 x 5's and numerous 4x4's. So we decided I should try it out. After getting permission to hunt down there we decided to check it out and see how bad that it would be for me to get down there. It is right along the creek that comes from Clauson Springs and runs into the Sheyenne River. Of course the spot we wanted to hunt was not close to the road. It was probably 200 yards downhill through to rock ravines and a bean field. Obviously, getting down there wasn't bad; it was the getting back up the hill.

The hunt was pretty uneventful. We only had a couple of basket bucks and some does come by. But this is when the adventure started. It was darker than the ace of spades and of course we did not bring our flashlights. They were in the shaggin wagon. About halfway through the bean field my chair started to give out. I would go for about 10 feet that it was just die. So he got behind me and pushed. It doesn't really work very well trying to push something uphill especially when myself and the chair weigh around 550 pounds. After about a half-hour of this, we decided to drive the van down to us. The only problem is tractors are about the only thing that goes down and up this side hill. Just like me the van came down easy but going up was another story. We eventually did make it as I am here to tell the story, after giving her the onion a couple times going across the rock ravines. I'm sure the bottom of the van was nice and shiny after that little episode.

Don B. and myself shooting 3-D targets at the tree farm.

The last couple years around my main hunting spot the deer numbers have been down quite a bit. But this year they seem to be on the rebound. My new trail camera was getting quite a few pictures everyday. And surprisingly also some big ones, at least for me. Most of the big ones were a half-mile away in another shelter belt. A friend of mine had a trail camera in there and he was getting a lot of good bucks coming in. Eventually he shot a 4 x 5 out of Herman's belt.

I probably sat around 20 times north of the house and saw deer every time. But nothing to get too excited about early in the season. For some reason around here they are nocturnal. The belt I hunt in is what you call a travel route. This should be good for bowhunting but not so good when they come around in the dark. Especially the bucks, most of them on the trail camera were coming by around midnight. I've decided that the only good time to hunt around here is during the rut when the bucks looking for love in all the wrong places. They tend to let down their guard when their emotions get the best of them.

Now comes the second most disappointing part of my hunting season. Cody, a friend of mine wanted me to hunt on a spot he has been hunting all fall. And when he says there are big bucks, you can guarantee that they are big. He had been getting pictures of three big 4x4's and one monster 5 x 5. All four of these deer would be a trophy for anyone bowhunting. I finally decided to go over there and try it out a couple of days before rifle season. Looking back on it now I should've been there all season long. The only problem is getting in and out of the spot, which is about 10 miles away from the house. I believe I was there on the Tuesday night for the first time, just three days before rifle season. Cody help set me up that first night in a little tree grove above the Maple River and beside a bean/cornfield. And like clockwork the bucks started coming out about a half hour before sunset. For some reason the bucks were still in their bachelor group. The three 4x4's came out for me around 100 yards and started making their way towards me. When they were in shooting range I noticed Mr. Big bringing up the rear. And he was big probably the biggest we have ever seen and will ever see while hunting. The only problem was that now I had eight eyes looking around and it was only a matter of time before one of them got spooked. After about 15 minutes one of the 4x4's noticed that I shouldn't be there and started to stomp and snort, which is never good. Then in a blink of an eye all I could see was white flags running away. But at least I knew they were there and decided to go back the next day.

The next day I got there a little earlier just to make sure I didn't spook anything out on the way in. This night there were some does that came by early and got chased away by some turkeys. Then I saw the turkeys go up to roost, which is one of the loudest things you hear in the woods. They are not the most graceful flyers. After all of the commotion I saw the biggest of the 4x4's coming right towards me. He was only about 20 yards away and didn't notice me so I decided to wait and see if Mr. Big would show. He never did though and it was starting to get dark. After a little conversation I had in my head about whether I should shoot him or not I decided I would take the shot. I based it on rifle season was starting in a couple of days and the spot gets hit pretty hard. The only problem was he was quartering towards me and that is not the shot you want to take but I did anyway. My bolt went into his front right shoulder and angled back to his left rib cage. When he turned away and ran I could see my fletching sticking out and it looked like there was only about 8 inches of the bolt in him. I had a gut feeling right away that this wasn't going to turn out good.

New custom made bolts.

After about an hour Cody and Keith came out to help look for the deer with my dad. They search for about two hours that night. There would be a good blood trail for a while and that it would disappear. Then they would find it again and that it would disappear again. We decided to back out and come back in the morning. The next morning Keith, Steve and Lawrence went back to pick up the blood trail in the daylight. They tracked for a couple of hours and noticed that he crossed the river. They drove around to the other side and found the bolt, which had blood about halfway up. The notice of the couple of the blood puddles, hunks of tissue that looked like parts of lung. There was also bubbles in the blood which is always a good sign, but evidently not this time. The last speck of blood they found was in the middle of a bean field about a half-mile away from where I shot him. But we did not give up here. That afternoon Lawrence went back but came up empty. There is no worse feeling for a bow hunter then not being able to find your deer that you have shot. I was sick about it for about, well heck I'm still sick about it. I even punished myself by not going bowhunting for a week.

Like I said before this was the year of disappointment and here comes the granddaddy of them all. All fall I've been working on a rifle mount that adapts to my chair. Finally in September we got it dialed in pretty good. With help from Don B. who made the trigger. Also with a lot of help from Lawrence just getting used to shooting. Earlier that summer I bought a Remington .243 semi automatic rifle for deer/coyote/antelope. It took quite a while to get the hang of shooting a rifle because I haven't done for a while. We also had trouble with the rifle not grouping. After quite a bit of trials and error we found out it was the rings on the scope. But we got squared away a week into rifle season. For some reason I was gone the second weekend of rifle season so I only had three days to hunt. And wouldn't you know it, I only needed one day to screw something up.

I knew there were bucks around the farm so I decided to hunt right here instead of going anywhere else. I had my mom set me up the first night. For where I set up a longest shot should be around 150 yards. It is in between to shelter belts with a harvested bean field in between. I was only city for about half an hour when I first saw the does starting to come out with a belt. I believe there were around 11 of them. All of a sudden I noticed some commotion in the belt and it had to be a buck. It was real quiet that night and there was no wind. Pretty soon I could hear him grunting and rubbing down some trees. Then he appeared out of the belt with his head held high. He was a big 5 x 5 with bright white antlers. I can still see him when I close my eyes. Anyway I got lined up on him and pulled the trigger and nothing happened. I was perplexed. Just the day before I shot around 20 times and the trigger worked every time. He was chasing some does and getting closer, around 120 yards. This is when he gave me another shot, so I pulled back on the trigger again and nothing happened. At this time I was starting to get pissed. I started looking over the rifle and trigger and it seemed like everything was good, but evidently not. He went back into the belt and I was cussing myself wondering what the heck is going on. Then he came out and gave me another shot around 100 yards. I took my time and pulled back of the trigger and nothing happened again. Don't they say bad things come in threes. By this time it was getting dark so I decided to go back to the house. I called up Don B. and he came out to check out the rifle. He gave it a good cleaning and the only thing we could figure was that the action did not shut away for some reason. I went out the next two days with Ham hoping he would come back but he never did. I only saw one deer the next two days and that was on Sunday about 30 seconds before legal shooting hours were over and of course it was a doe.
And that folks ended as quick as my story began. For the closing story of evolution I put together a little blog, or so I call it. It’s a look deeper to my situation and how I dealt with it. I named it 14 Years in the Making. I hope you enjoy.

14 Years In The Making
I am a first timer at this blogging stuff so here it goes. A couple weeks ago I met someone and they asked me what my story was. Of course they started out asking how I ended up in a wheelchair. I told them the shortened, abbreviated story because of course I was in a bar. Anyway when I got done with my history they asked when it happened to me and I said when I was around 15 years old. Then they asked me how old I was and I told them 28 year’s old. Then they told me something that I did not realize, “So you have spent half of your life in and half of your life out of a chair?”

My response was, “I guess.”

The bar patron then asked, “How has your life been different?”

This why I am writing this blog.

My first answer to that question is my life is very different. Besides the obvious differences of living a life in a chair there are countless ways that a life is different behind the scenes. Which most people cannot even fathom.

Rifle mount with my semi auto .243 Remington.

Then I became to realize that, how do I know that my life is different now than it could be. There is a lot of hypothetical crap that could’ve happened either way. I could’ve been a millionaire but I can still be a millionaire. I could’ve been a famous baseball analyst but I can still be a famous baseball analyst. The easiest answer I think to that question is I would still be me. So it is hard to think of how your life could have been different. Try it sometime, pick out a point in your life and make a decision that changes your life from that point on. Do you think your life would be different or would it be the same?

Another reason why I’m writing this blog is because I was wondering how many people I have met because I am in a wheelchair. There are hundreds of people I have met that I know I would have not met otherwise. Most of the people on Myspace, doctors and nurses and friends I met at college. Most of the people I have met these last 14 years have become some of my best friends. Not to knock all the people that I have known all my life but you know what I mean.
The third reason why I writing this is I want to thank everyone who has supported me these last 14 years. People who don’t know me like that barfly always ask me how do I do it and how do I live my life. There are a lot of reasons why I “do it” which I guess is what defined as living my life as normal as can be.

The first reason is because I do not know any other way to live my life. I have been in hospitals numerous times and always see patients who feel sorry for themselves and I would hate myself if I would ever do that. I can’t stand people who feel sorry for themselves and I do not want anyone to feel sorry for me. That might seem a little cynical but that is how I feel. I lived in an apartment with many people with different disabilities and they would never go out of their rooms. If I did that I would go nuts.

The second reason is because of all of the support I have gotten from my family and friends. You do not know how much that means to me. Without all of you these last 14 years these could have been the worst 14 years of my life, but I believe they have been the best 14 years of my life. Thanks.

That is some pretty serious, deep stuff I just wrote. It all started when a local idiot in one of my favorite bars asked me a simple question. Because as most of you know I am a loser magnet.

Thank you to everyone for taking a little time and reading my story. It is an ongoing piece of work that I am continually adding to as time passes and as new hunting memories are made. I would also like to add something that always gets brought up about my hunting accident. The question is, "Are you still friends?" The answer is, that everyone who was involved in my accident are still great friends. We still get together all the time, hunt together and will continue to do so in the future. I wouldn't want it any other way...

Peace and chicken grease,

Clint Lindemann

I Would Rather Be ______ing

Trent (Sotaman) Thomas