One of the many seeds planted deep within my psyche by my parents as a youngster was an abhorrence for bullies.We all know what they are and have seen them in action as they browbeat their victims; victims whom are usually smaller and weaker and pose no real threat to the attacker.As I aged, my unique personality (some would say obnoxious personality) frequently made me the target of bullies in my everyday life and that personal contact only served to deepen my distain for those who brutally intimidate, just because they can.
I watched in growing irritation as an ornery Sika buck viciously slashed at the other deer with its long, four-pronged antlers.Mean and nasty as it was, the other animals risked its sadistic abuse in an effort to gobble up some of the sweet, nourishing grain that lay scattered on the ground.The unusually cold weather that had been delivered by the latest bout of Al Gore’s mythical global warming had the deer hungry for the energy-rich feed that had been scattered just hours before by the shepherd of the herd.As the bully dished out punishment to all that got within reach of its sharp, ivory-tipped antlers, my shackles rose to the max causing me to make the decision to bring this bully’s reign of terror to a bloody end.
Picking up my TenPoint GT Flex crossbow, I slowly brought the mighty-mite to my shoulder, centered the crosshairs of the scope on the bully’s rib cage and slowly and with great satisfaction squeezed the trigger.The bow twanged as the string launched the arrow faster than the eye could follow.The broadhead sliced through the animal’s boiler room, then buried itself a solid three inches into the dirt on the far side of the doomed target.The startled Sika thinking that another buck had been able to sneak up unnoticed and stick it with an antler, bounded off in confusion on the last forty-yard romp of its life.That’s all the distance the hapless animal covered before collapsing and quickly losing conciseness, confused over its inability to keep the daylight from turning into darkness.
The judge’s bench at which I sat meting out my own personal form of justice was in one of the comfortable, elevated towers on Palmquist’s, The Farm overlooking a huge food plot deep within the thick, forested countryside of Northern Wisconsin.On this year, I was there during the second week in November rather than the usual first or second week of December.In discussing hunting strategy with proprietor, Jim Palmquist the year before, it was agreed upon that perhaps an earlier hunt (around the onset of full rut) would be better for our mission.The main part of that mission, of course, is to see that each hunter that accompanies me on the Annual HBM Palmquist Farm Hunt has an excellent chance to shoot a big buck, but for Jim and me, collecting as many quality photographs of Jim’s animals as we can is just as important a part of that plan.After much discussion, we agreed that time of the season would definitely provide us the best “click for the buck” (not to be confused with “bang for the buck”) in the photo department.
And of course, combining two such wise minds to come to that conclusion turned out to be 110% right on the money, the whitetail action deep in the woods of the Palmquist Estate was non-stop from dawn till dusk.During my three days in the field, I captured over 3000 photographs and was able to salvage almost 2300 usable shots to add to my photo morgue.Unfortunately, we had no hunters this year and so the big, rutted-up whitetails that were photographed were left alone to complete their mission of chasing hot does from one end of the farm to the other with nothing but “good service” in their minds.In a normal year, I usually take down a couple of does during my stay as I would rather photograph the bucks, but this year Jim had a treat in store for me.Several years earlier he and his partner had introduced Sika (pronounced See-ka) to his estate and the herd was maturing nicely.The problem is that there was little or no interest in the animals from his hunters.&Having had some personal experience with that particular creature, both hunting and eating it, I quickly jumped at the chance to put one of Jim’s delicious Sika bucks in my freezer.
The Sika is an Eastern Asian deer that is found naturally from Korea all the way over through Viet Nam up into India.It just happens to be the smallest member of the Elk family.It has been transplanted all over the world, was originally brought to the USA well over a hundred years ago and has done extremely well for itself where ever it has been introduced.Maryland actually has a hunting season for the Sika deer because their wild herd is so large and healthy.They are extremely difficult to hunt, but the quality of their flesh is absolutely incredible being very similar to elk or moose in taste and consistency.It truly is one of the finest eating animals in the world.In spite of the fact that the buck I chose to harvest was a “tough-guy”, the provisions it’s providing for the family larder is melt-in-your-mouth delicious and a personal favorite of my dearly beloved, Karen Lea.
Aside from the acquisition of superb groceries and unique wildlife photographs, the stay with the Palmquist’s is always a total delight.Clean and homey accommodations blended with good home cooking and thickly frosted with a layer of warm and hospitable companionship makes the stay at this unique woodland retreat unforgettable and most remarkable.It is quite normal for me to arrive at the stand shortly after daylight rather than an hour before as I refuse to miss the morning coffee clutch with the local boys that gather around the breakfast table every morning in Jim and Helen’s warm, woodstove heated kitchen.I make a special point of wearing my high-top boots to the daily conclave just because it has a tendency to get a little deep around that table at times; but the warm camaraderie, endless stories of days and characters gone by is always punctuated by ample bursts of sincere, heartfelt laughter making the early morning bull sessions at Palmquist Farm one its most special and unique treasures of a visit there.
Considering all the Whitetail activity I saw on this trip I can definitely say that it was the most action filled hunt every at The Farm.Unfortunately I had no other hunters to share the excitement with.If you have a big empty space on your the wall of your den where you would like to hang a big old Whitetail head (or even a Sika head) I know just the place where you can get the job done.Great accommodation, scrumptious food, warm country hospitality and Whitetail action like you have never seen before.I all awaits you at Palmquist’s, The Farm.
If you would like to join us for the 2010 Annual HBM Palmquist Farm Hunt, give the HBM Main Desk a call at 320-634-3660.We will be happy to answer your questions and share all that we know about what you can expect on a hunt at The Farm.
In a separate colored box with “Sidebar Photo”
Sidebar:One of the greatest benefits of an operation like Palmquist’s The Farms is that it allows a parent to get the children of their family into the field and hunting years before antiquated laws say it is permissible.Shortly before my visit to Palmquist’s, The Farm, a Dentist by the name of Robert Imm brought his young daughter, McKenzie there to take her very first animal with her rifle.McKenzie’s grandfather, David Imm (a retired Dentist) joined his son as they introduced the beautiful young lady to the art of responsible and safe hunting.In spite of the fact that McKenzie was too young to hunt (according to Wisconsin law) and the regular season was not open yet, she, her father and her grandfather shared a very special hunting experience that none of them will ever forget.And that entire experience was made possible because at The Farm, Jim determines the rules of the hunt, not the state.As the result of that very first hunting trip, the ranks of the modern hunter grew by one, thanks to the unique and positive benefits of hunting operations like Palmquist’s, The Farm.