It was Tuesday December 9th and boy was it a cold nasty day down in the Lake Mary bottoms. Rain was in the forecast all day, but my hunting partner Graham Tujaque said rain or shine we were gonna sit it out and get a big boy today. As the gloomy sky brought some more rain in final minutes of the day I was about to pack it up. Man of man am I glad I stuck it out.
As the light faded I was gazing down the lane to the left, where some does had been feeding earlier, when I got my first glimpse of the giant. With his head down he quickly bulldozed across the shooting lane right in front of me. Sitting there, with my binoculars up now, to try and catch another glimpse at the brute, I couldnt help but think I may have just missed a shot at a buck of a lifetime. As I peered into the fading light down the lane he showed up again. Head down on the move he diapered just as quickly again! I was really upset at myself now. Not only had I let him slip by me once, but when he came back out I had my damn binoculars up. At this point I new that this big boy was for sure a shooter, and was determined not to let it slip by me again.
Rifle up and aimed down the lane I was ready now! Even though it was pouring rain the deer Gods must have been shining on me, because through the woods I spotted him again. Standing where I had last seen the does, about 130 yards away, I let him have .Booom! Down He went, a beautiful 177 18 point 225lb Mississippi River bottoms bruiser!
The hunt for the kind wing green fat heads is on!
When the big river runs green and the north winds blow cold, theirs only one place in the world you'll find this ole boy!
As the sun tipped the rozos Friday afternoon a rainbow of color illuminated my sparkle beetle bumping across a sandy south pass flat. Man was the water pretty and oh man was it full of hungry mouths! Speckled monsters where first on the attach in the battle hole. Over the rail they came one by one, two by two, and even three by three. Some laughs high fives and of course trash talking yielded 'hey hold on lets leave some room for reds!' A few beetle bumps on the rocky flats and some reel zingin topped it off. The only thing better than sitting with your buddies around a floating fire drinking whisky with a full box of fish before the hunting has even began on a cool December evening at the mouth of the river is..... well actually I don't think there is anything better than that!
If anything can ease a pounding hangover its curled up wings dropping out of a purple and orange sky. The birds weren't as thick as usual but a couple more hours in the weeds with a few more laughs and trash talk to scratch out a limit isn't to bad a way to spend a Saturday morning. A quick run in the big boat some cold pops and boudein preceded another afternoon of bent rods. As we burned back up the river towards our camp in the mud, golden sunset to our back, I just couldn't help but thank God for all the blessings laid upon this southern man. Good friends, dirty shot guns, a chest full of meat, and a goulosh bubbling on the fire surrounded by laughs and smiles..what more could a Louisiana sportsman ask for.
Went down to the end of the world this weekend for a little blastin and castin! Slingin steal at greys in the morning bending back rods in the afternoon, only in Merica! Quack Quack Boom!
After a bunch of good bucks on camera in my favorite LA honey holes 3
weeks in the trees had started proving futile, since all my big boys
decided to go completely nocturnal on me. With an upcoming turnaround
at work about to start I decided to pack it up for a long weekend and
try my luck about 500 miles to the west.
Friday morning brought just about the best conditions a hunting man
can ask for. Cool crisp air, a waxing crescent moon, and a calm
breeze. Death was in the air!
As the sun crept over the beautiful Texas hills the sound of crashing
antlers funneled down the draw! The big boys were ready for some
fighting! The first clinking of the rattling horns brought in some
willing customers, but they werent the bruiser I new roamed these
hills. About the time the young bucks were out of sight a buzzing in
my pocket alerted me to a picture of a bloody arrow followed by 'dude
just rattled in a freakin monster!'...Oh man it was on!
A short time latter I arrived at the rendezvous point to see my best
friend and undoubtedly life long hunting buddy pacing back and fourth
like a mad man.
Bra I made one rattle set and all of a sudden the sound of hooves
stomping the ground came to within 10 yards behind me After an
adrenaline pumping knee buckling eternity the bruiser gave him a shot!
Although not completely sure of the placement the broken back ¼ of the
arrow, the giant left behind, was covered in rich dark bloody
A great close encounter and blood letting story of a giant white
tailed bruiser was followed up by some re-insuring words and back into
the brush we went. It was my turn and the day was young. 'Cole we're
not going to look for your buck until you rattle me in a big
one'...'rogger that buddy'.
A short distance up a live oak draw found us on top of a knoll. 'This
looks like a good spot bud..start clinking' with the cool breeze in
our face and the morning sun beams at our back the first rattle set
began. Before the first rattle set ended my heart started pounding!
'Cole Big Buck running down the hill right at us!' Here he came like a
banshee on a war path. Two trails split the knoll he had to go down
one or the other. 'Cole range the tree on the right'...'37
yards'...'Cole range the tree on the left'...'41 yards'...'Holly Crap
you can stop ranging!' Here he came right at us; this big nasty boy
was getting the top pin! He didnt need to go around us, He wanted to
fight! About 3 of the most adrenaline pumping seconds later the rage
was released! Swackkkk! Perfect placement right behind the shoulder!
After a nerve racking/ exiting/ agonizing/ confident few hours we had
our hands on Coles buck. He was a bruiser! The broken half of the
arrow was logged firmly in the top ventricle of the big boys heart
and he was pilled up 60 yards from the shot! The wide thick chocolate
horns made for an absolute trophy!
After some bear hugs and high fives it was off to look for mine. We
had seen the shot hit perfect right behind the front shoulder but we
had also observed a little bit too much arrow sticking out for
comfort. We knew I had squared a rib and watched him disappear into a
pile of brush but we were taking no chances. With the Hoyt knocked up
I crept in were he had disappeared only to have my heart drop when all
that lay on the ground was a little bit of blood.
Drop by drop we followed the weak tear drops of blood on hands and
knees, cactus and thorns, for over 200 yards. With the trail getting
thinner and thinner and the negative thoughts creeping into my head it
wasnt looking good. Man did I get any penetration, how far was the
arrow really sticking out, did the blade make it far enough to get
lung, oh man is it possible this deer could survive? Hope was
dwindling until well ahead of me Cole shouted hey bra I got good
blood. As I inspected the conglomerated blood splatter it was clear
the buck had rested here but where did he go? Why isnt he laying dead
right here? Shit Matt dont let the doubt creep into your mind stay
focused. Laying my bow down next to the last good blood I was back on
the ground like a blood hound connecting the dots with ever so tiny
red droplets. I came almost all the way around the brush top when a
twig snap caught my attention.
There he was 5 feet from my face sitting up staring through my soul!
Now I have experienced some crazy emotions through my numerous
adventures a field, but brother let me tell you what; when you have a
huge wounded very much alive monster buck with 9 razor sharp daggers,
that you now you have to kill, staring at you 5 feet away that is a
hole new emotion!
What happened next was a blur of adrenaline and arrow slinging!
When I got back to my bow the bruiser was on the move. Exploding out
of the brush top he ran about 40 yards and looked back. By this time
another rage was in the air on a path for destruction. Swaack! Shit!
To far back. The second war head had deflected and hit just in front
of his hind quarter unzipping his intestinal track but definitely not
slowing him down! As the buck bolted over the hill I was hot on his
trail. Like an Indian warrior running down his prey I knocked a third
arrow as I crept to the top of the hill.
There he stood battle worn and mortally wounded 30 yards ahead. All I
could see where the tops of chocolate daggers. I knelt down to observe
his next move peering through a tunnel of brush when all of a sudden
an unmistakable white patch of fur appeared. Last arrow Matt now or
The final arrow was tipped with a hard hitting, brush cutting G5,
strategically placed in my quiver for just this scenario! Whammm! The
furry of sharp steel and carbon slammed into the monsters neck and
down he went! With the conclusion of the single most exhilarating
moment in my hunting life I let out the loudest warrior cry you have
ever herd. WOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW!
1-2 TX KO unforgettable!
Went to the woods with my baby this weekend to do a little conservation!
Kamakazi Divers Slingin Steel on AJ's
The Kamakazi Divers took the weekend off and snaged the rods in search of big nasty Warsaw.
Went to the deep water this weekend to tangle up with some big nasty pelagic predators. As the sun was setting Saturday night the mahi where flying! Nothing like the explosion of brilliant yellow and emerald to get the blood flowing. As the big steel giant lite up and the flare bellowed fire like a golden dragon the torpedo's began firing. Big boys baby! here they came like giant submarines flying out of the water. 1 by 1 big nasty yellowfin crashed onto the deck. Several hour long battles and a warn out Kamakazi crew filled up the fish boxes to the brim by daylight. As the sun bursted orange across a beautiful Sunday sky we headed to the shelf for one last pelagic monster. What do you use a 2 lb hook, 4 lb weight, 400 lb leader, and a hole butterflyed black fin to catch?...Grouper! A couple broken leaders and one more death match brought the last of our quarry for the day. Great overnight trip to the canyon!
Any one else see the pod of killer whales (orcas) out of the mouth of the river this weekend. We spotted these a few miles out of main pass on our way to catch some yellowfin. Pretty Crazy I didn't even know they came in the gulf.
Opening weekend of the Red Sea Dragon season never disappoints. The Kamakazi diver crew made it out to a little place we like to call 'Snapper City' for some good ole steal slingin fun!
A good weekend of steel slingin and AJ killing on the beautiful iron reefs in sportsmans paradise!
Went out with the ladies this weekend for some absolutely beautiful diving! Seas were calm, water was blue, and the big AJs were thick!
Went up north this weekend and put the hammer down. All the warm weather made for an early breeding season so the big boys where looking for some tail. 2 days of glassing Gods beautiful country and some sweet pluckin was all it took the fill our tags with some big nasty bearded dragons.
oxbow night fishing at its best!
Ended the weekend on a high note! The day time fishin in the old oxbow's was super slow. Trees, flats, piers... plastic, spinners, and cranks,it didnt matter the fishing was slow. Since the bite did pick up a little in the evening we decided to fish the lights into the night and ohh boy! The green monsters where holding the fish and they where hungry! If it looked like a shad and twiched like a shad those big mouths where crushing it. From dark until high moon the top water action was hot and heavy. 6 big strippers and a limit of kamakazi large mouth was a good way to end the weekend.
The season ended just right Sunday morning! The hot late season weather had led to some pretty futile mallard hunts the past month but this weekend we finally found um. Up the river and through the woods we went, looking for those shiny pearl green heads.
As the orange haze began to pour through the canopy of willows and the freezing water seeped into my thorn torn waders an amazing sound added to the mystique. The quacks, whistles, and roar of big wings gliding through the trees quickly made me forget about my water filled boots. Just shoot the GREEN was whispered down the line of eager killers and the war began. The roar of cannon fire erupted in the flooded forest and the majestic king wings began to fall. Group by group the green headed kamakazi bombers poured into the hole as gunpowder and steel impeded there exit. A pile of dead mallards with smiles and high fives all the way around was an awesome way to end the season.
I know the kamakazi titles getting old, but if there was ever a hunt that epitomized the crazy Japanese bombers crashing out of the sky it was Mondays hunt. We where in the clouds as the morning sun tried to brighten the day. The duck spread sat motionless as the thick fog bank settled on the rice fields. No morning flight of greys, no whistling wings of pintail, no chuckling of specks, nothing but a constant la-la la-la la-la. We where around a concentration, as my good buddy Big Tex would say, and they where coming in hot. Waves of the big bodied snows began to appear out of the fog right on top of us. Most flying just high enough to stay out of range for the full choked 12 gauges but not all. Volley after volley the kamakazi beast crashed into the water as the steal ripped through the fog. Blooosh...Blooosh...Blooosh music to my ears.
Ohhhh gotta love the second split. A little cold weather brought the trophies to the end of the world for an amazing shoot this weekend.
When you go to your favorite hole and the coon tail grass has been stripped to bare reeds and it looks like someone bush-hog'd the top of the water, your gonna be in for a good hunt. As the first glimmer of light streamed through the rozos the splash party began. First came the canvas back hot and heavy, after a quick volley we had to wait and just watch the show. 7:00 brought flight after flight of beautiful red heads and after a quick where just shooting the ones with the red heads dad a boom boom boom was all it took. Its not often when u get to sit back and watch wads of teal, spoonies, red heads, and canvas backs plop in your hole and all you can do is smile. 7:30 and here they came the majestic long white necks gliding in just right. As the steel blew through the 4th pin tailed white belly opening morning of the second split was one for the record books.
A few handles of fine gentlemans whisky and a trophy rat kill later 5:00 came early on day 2, but back to the bush hog hole we went for another amazing trophy bird hunt. Great way to start off the second split!
A strong southeast wind and a dreary day made for some speck-tacular shooting in the south Louisiana rice fields Saturday morning. The big ducks where coming in hot and the specks locked up. The big barred out generals had the wings flippin and the orange feet dangling. The full chokes where squeezing that BB shot just right. Well worth the honking and gurgling until I was blue in the face to bring out a limit of speck and ducks.
After a little lunch around a nice ground fire we picked up the poles and buzz baits and wore out the bass for a few hours. There aint nothing like a good ferocious bass bustin top water! Just another blessed God given day in sportsmans paradise.