In this day, some say sex sells everything. I have been involved in some interesting discussions with both men and women about that very subject. We discussed such things as hunting or fishing product and sites using “Booth Babes” and scantily dressed women, to promote their products and or some of their outdoors sites.

Websites, and companies that say they are now welcoming and encouraging women and kids into their outdoor community, are using these beautiful half naked girls to sell their sites/products to whom? I know as a woman it just irritates me and I certainly would not send the kids to get a peek!

I have found some really great websites that I would like to frequent, and because of these pictures, I do not. In turn I don’t promote these sites to anyone else either, male or female. I would like to join the e-mail updates on one website, but I am afraid I will get the “Model of the Year Calendar”. In turn I will not stop at the booths, featuring half-dressed, well endowed bimbos that know nothing about hunting or fishing, at the trade shows, no matter how great their products are. It’s so demeaning.

It’s not that these girls aren’t beautiful, they certainly are gorgeous. I am sure a lot of these “chicks” work very hard or pay dearly to have bodies like that. These pictures would be great shots for Maxum or some other men’s fantasy magazines.

It’s that women have worked so hard to be seen and treated as equals in our industry and it is like a slap in the face to see how some companies still portray the women that hunt or fish. These pictures do not encourage women to participate in the outdoors. It sends a message that women are only good at one thing, and it isn’t our sport. More times than not those using this selling tactic turn away a good majority of the women they are trying to recruit to use their sites or products. These customers leave in silence never to return.

Women usually don’t want to make waves so they stay quiet even when offended. They do however, keep it stored away. I happen to be one of the more vocal women about this subject, and when I mentioned it on Twitter, it started a “flurry of fury”. On this particular day these gals had had enough and all that had been stored came brewing out.

On the other hand, I had some of the men say to me “They didn’t hold a gun to her head” or “You’re just jealous.” Those guys are missing the point. I agree that those girls have every right to sell their goods to anyone who wants buy them. Am I jealous? Sure, I would love to still have the body I had at their age. But the point is, even when I had a body like that, nobody ever knew it, when I was hunting or fishing! It’s about hunting and fishing not the “chick”!

I don’t want to look at women in bikinis or underwear, making women that hunt and fish look stupid, every time I check out new hunting gear or go to chat with someone that hunts. This is what real women hunters look like! http://www.campwildgirls.com/Womens_Hunting_Photo_Album.php

I know that this post may upset some people that like the “Booth Babes” and the risque pictures and…Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn!

I have a great friend that sums up the feelings of many “silent” people on this matter. Many thanks to Mike “Hawk” Huston for going to bat for us! Ladies and Gentlemen Please at http://highcountryarcher.blogspot.com/

On this Memorial Day 2009, I want to say thank you, to all of the brave men and women that have gone to war. It is the ultimate gift that you would fight, for not only your own freedom, but the freedoms enjoyed by so many others.

I wrote this poem when my oldest son Jim decided to join the National Guard, just after 9-11. Within a few months after he joined, we got a call saying that his unit was being deployed. I remember vividly the feelings of I panic and fear that chilled me.

Jim had not completed his military training yet, and was still a senior in high school. This meant he would not join his unit overseas. The day the Hayward unit left for Iraq, I sat along the side of the road with hundreds of others, who were sending their families and friends off to war. I had such mixed emotions as I sat there, tears streaming down my face.

I was so proud of what my son had done by joining the National Guard, and yet so relieved that he didn’t have to go with them. He was barely 18, a baby. I felt horrible that others in our community were sacrificing and sending their loved ones off to war, while I instead, would get to keep mine home. How could I be so selfish? I went home and wrote this poem.

He’s Still My Little Boy

All grown up now

A military man these days,

Standing there so straight and tall

So proud in all his ways.

Dressed in stately uniform

Wearing spit shined boots,

He’s a soldier now

Willing to join his troops.

I watch as he salutes the flag
Loving his country so!
Sure of all the things he’s learned,
The time has come to go.

Outside, I am beaming with pride,
I am clutching his favorite toy,
Inside, I am sobbing
Not yet, he’s still my little boy.

I also want to also salute all of the families who have had to give up so much. To the children who have given up their mothers or fathers, in some cases for more than a year each time. To the mothers and fathers that have had to watch their children leaving, not knowing if they will return. To the brothers and sisters, Grandparents, fiances, aunts and uncles, and so many other relatives and friends that have given, and are giving up, so much for all of us. And last but not least, to those, whose loved ones did not return. To all of you, thank you, you are all real heroes in my book!

I started hunting with my Dad and Grandpa when I was 12. I did not however, shoot a deer until I was 16 years old. I had taken shots at deer twice maybe three times previously, but not hit my mark. I was severely razzed about having “buck fever” since I had shot very quickly, several times with a 30-30 bolt action. This particular day we were doing drives as usual. (We almost always do drives, morning until quitting time, for all nine days of season.) We have a fairly large crew and we try to alternate, driver one time then stander the next.

This time, I was the second stander in. Dad and Grandpa were walkers. The first stander, D.J. had his little brother, Tony, standing with him. Tony didn’t always sit still, especially when he would see a deer, and on this day, that was to be to my advantage!

The air is crisp and cold on that late November day. Snow barely blankets the ground as I stand against a tree and watch for the elusive whitetail buck. I have a good visual of the distant oak ridge out in front of me, but have seen nothing yet. I started to get a bit chilled and my arms were getting sore from holding my rifle ready. Suddenly, I saw something. It was an owl, but I knew that this is a sign that the drivers were getting closer and it was time to stay more alert.

Grandpa told me countless stories of how the big bucks would come following after the owls and the fox. I start to pay better attention. I see another slight movement at the top of the ridge. I get a pretty good look and it is a nice buck but I cannot get a good shot. I have missed before and want to make sure I am not going to get teased again this time. I have no problem seeing the antlers on top of his head. I can see he is moving down the side hill toward the first stander on our drive. I know that D.J. must be able to see him.

Though I am disappointed that I would not get a shot, I am excited for D.J. and waited impatiently for the sound of his rifle. I know that buck is headed right for him. My eyes strain to catch another glimpse of the buck, all the while looking to see if anything else would appear in front of me. I start thinking, “Why is he not shooting?”

 As I slowly turn my head a little more in the direction the buck went, I freeze; the bad boy is now coming towards me. He is walking slowly, head down, almost sneaking away from D.J. and right toward me. He stops behind a tree. I cease all movements, except my eyes blinking in dismay. Even my breathing stops, I am sure I am turning blue. As I watch him, I gently slide my hand from inside my mitten. My heart is beating wildly. He’s on the move again, but still coming straight for me, closer and closer. He has no idea I am there. He turns his head to look back. I slowly, raise my rifle and silently slide the safe over to fire. I am still not daring to breathe. My chest feels as if it will explode. He is walking directly at me. I have the bead right on him, but I continue to let him come as close as possible.

I don’t want to miss this one. He is a big, 8 pt. buck. Suddenly he stops. He senses something is wrong. He is standing directly in front of me, 15 yards staring at me. My heart is pounding and I am sure he hears it.  He slowly turns to leave and I squeeze the trigger, praying that I won’t miss. Kawham! I shoot. He drops. One killing shot to the neck. I am silently saying yes, yes, yes! I want to jump up and down and yell it to the world, but it has been drilled into my head…the drive is not over until all the drivers come through. I wait what seems like an eternity, in the exact same spot I have been in since the start of the drive. I start shake from the adrenaline rush, otherwise known as “buck fever”. I am so thankful that it didn’t start until after I shot.

Finally, I see blaze orange come over the hill. It’s Grandpa. He walks up to me, not seeing the deer in the brush, and whispers, “Who shot?” I quietly reply. “I did.” “At what?” he whispers back, thinking that I have missed again. To which I reply very loudly and cockily, pointing in the

16 yrs. Old, 1st Buck.

I will never forget the smile that beamed crossed my Grandpa’s face when he saw that buck. The pride in his face is still overwhelms me when I think about it. Grandpa got his knife out and gutted my first deer. My Dad soon heard the news and found his way to congratulate and hug me. He also had a grin from ear to ear.

We loaded the deer into the pickup and the rest of the crew congratulated me. I was still shaking almost an hour later. We finished the day as always stopping at “The Pub” for a few refreshments. I had to spend my hard earned money just to buy a round of drinks, but I didn’t mind. I am sure that Dad and Grandpa bought a few too and when Grandpa quit hunting (he was 89 the last year he hunted) I was given his buck knife. It is a treasure that I will always hold very near and dear because it reminds me of the smile on Grandpa’s face!

Is there ”peace and quiet” in the woods? 

As I sit and listen, contently in my tree stand on crisp fall evening, the tree makes an ever so slight creaking sound as it sways gently back an forth.  The whrrrr of little wings amuses me, as a chickadee lands on the brim of my hat, and looks inquisitively at me. The chattering of the squirrels while they annoyingly chastise me for invading their tree. Soft rustling of leaves saddens me, as they fall to their final resting place. An irritating buzzing around my head, mosquitoes try to get a tasty sample of my life sustaining blood. Coyotes yipping and calling each other in the distance while the sun starts to retreat into the trees, sends a chill down my spine.  A twig snapping and leaves crunching evenly and steadily as a  buck steps into my view.  My heart thundering, louder and louder, jumping out of my chest as he walks unknowingly my way. The soft whisk of my bowstring as I pull back my arrow and hold it, not even breathing with excitement. The slight sigh that escapes me, I realize he is too small to harvest, and will live another day.

“Peace or quiet”? Not in my woods.

I have at times run across hunting groups or men that feel women shouldn’t hunt. I was fortunate to have a father that included his daughter in the sport of hunting. I am the oldest “son” of three daughters, (lol), and the 3^rd granddaughter to a Grandfather with no grandsons. Both my Dad and Grandpa encouraged me to take up hunting. Some girls were not so fortunate. “Hunting is our time to get away from the wives and kids!” was and still is a common feeling at some hunting camps. Many guys don’t know what they are missing.

4 Generations hunt together!

As I started dating out of high school, my favorite date was to go grouse hunting. I have some very fond memories of days in the spent in woods, exploring nature with a young man I was to later marry and have children with. Hunting seasons became a little more challenging after children, but with the help of babysitters (thanks mom!) our 9 day rifle season became our vacation! The kids loved to go to camp and check out what the day had produced. As they grew into young adults and started hunting with us and we cherished that time spent together as a family looking forward to it each year. At one point in time, we had four generations hunting together. Grandpa hunted with us until the age of 89. He quit only after having broke his pelvis in a car accident.

As life brings about changes and I found myself single again, I began to dating my current husband, who is an avid hunter. I had recently taken up bow hunting myself, and our best dates were spent in bow stands or having friendly little hunting competitions. We became hunting partners and best friends! Now we are life partners too. We will raise our little girl to appreciate hunting and nature. If she chooses to become a huntress, we will encourage and teach her together.

Some of my most important relationships, have blossomed because of hunting. Spending countless hours telling hunting stories with and about, Grandpa, Dad, my kids and now my husband. I can’t imagine how different my life would be, if my Dad had said to me, “You can’t go, you’re a girl.” Thanks Dad!

Over the last few days we have been having a discussion about the pink gear being marketed for women. We have been trying do decide if it works for gals or not?

Remington 870 in Mossy Oak Pink

The discussion began with an announcement that Remington Arms is now producing their .870 in Mossy Oak Pink Camo. You know the pepto pink color. (I like Remington’s just not this particular color scheme).  I like hot pink…on my web-site, in my new fleece CampWildGirls.com jacket, but definately not in my hunting gear. As I wandered around at SHOT I noticed how many guys were excited about the new “pink gear” that they were selling. Pink camo trail cams, pink b-b guns, pink bows, its seems to be everywhere. I am glad that companies are taking an interest in the women’s market and I love my blueish green stained stalk on my youth/women’s size .308, but I just can’t get into the pink. Somehow it seems to lessen what we do as women in the outdoors. I wonder if companies just assumed we liked pink or if they actually asked?

Let us know what you think!

Eyes of Terror Struck on Mother’s Day!!

Hello to everyone that is reading this post today! A Gal I met on Twitter posted this story. I thought it was appropriate to just reprint it in the interest of our kids! Please as you read this remember to forward! Spread the word about Child Safety! To find her blog…http://surfandsheds.wordpress.com

Mother’s Day 2009 my son was less than a minute from his home. He is 13 years old and I am proud to say a terrific child! He had been doing what he does all the time, playing outside. He was approached on Sunday at 2:55 pm in Raleigh, North Carolina. In the middle of the afternoon by a Silver Sedan with a 45-50 year old male driving the vehicle and a much younger female in the back seat. The male told him to get in the car and he would not be hurt. They repeated this several times, then as he was leaving the site, they told him ” Get in the car we will not hurt you, you can drive for the first time in your life, if you get in the car“. By saying that to a teenager, they were for sure targeting his age group! He did the right thing and screamed NO and left the area and came home. 911 was called immediately, they were dispatched from all over the county, and they have not found the predators, but by spreading the word about these predators and how they are targeting teenagers, older children think they are beyond this happening to them, I am here say that is just not TRUE!! I am hoping that all of the parents, grandparents, friends and family will spread the word and remind everyone to talk to their children about child abduction! My son was violated, and his sense of safety was taken from him within a few seconds. He has always been a strong independent young man and now, he has not slept in 2 days, and is still wondering if they will be outside our door waiting for him. If you click on the picture, it will take you to a website about child safety as well as the links below. Please talk to your children today! You never know what you will do in that situation, but it is truly best to prepare yourself in any way possible! I hope that this article will touch many, and be shared around the world! My family is very lucky to be able to say that it did turn out to be a Happy Mother’s Day for us in every since of the word!

Check out these links to help you talk with your children about Safety!

1. http://www.bottomlinesecrets.com/article.html?article_id=13383

2. http://www.ehow.com/how_5010481_teach-child-stranger-danger.html?ref=fuel&utm_source=yahoo&utm_medium=ssp&utm_campaign=yssp_art

3. http://www.ehow.com/video_4441779_kids-selfdefense-stranger-danger.html Great Video!!

4. http://www.ehow.com/how_2302152_help-kids-identify-dangerous-strangers.html

5. http://www.ehow.com/how_4880428_protect-child-abduction-strangers.html

6. http://www.gomcgruff.com Online Safety Website

*****Remember to HUG your children today!! Be thankful, and Teach, Preach, and Spread the Word!!