Archives for November 2014

Countdown To A Sub-Zero Escape

The clock is ticking.  I’m on a countdown to escaping this crazy Minnesota sub-zero November.  There is so much to do to prepare for enjoying months of work and play clear across the country.

Step one involved a quick overnight trip to Leech Lake November 5th  to conduct inventory; one day of carefully choosing, scaling down, and organizing the business and personal  items in my Toy Hauler that will be traveling south with us this winter.  That in itself was no small feat.  But I managed to make hard decisions and figure out what could stay and what had to go.  It was 40 some degrees and clear during that brief trip. After walking around the property, it was apparent to me that I was going to have an extremely difficult time trying to get the Toy Hauler out with my truck.  I measured, calculated, and raked the exit route, only to heighten my insecurity about pulling it out of there.  With a heavy sigh, I repeated in my head “you did it once, you can do it again”.

Then it was home until the 16th, to complete the organizing effort and wrap up winterizing at the house.  During that time, thank the Gods for great friends and neighbors.  To my eternally grateful surprise, June and Randy approached me and offered to go up to Leech with me in their ¾ ton Dodge Diesel to pull the Toy Hauler out.  Much more power, much safer for my trailer, my truck, and frankly, my friends lake property.  But we would have to do it the weekend of November 22nd.  It should be a snap.  How could I turn that down?

Step two, November 16th through the 19th.  The original plan was for Cindy and I to head up to Leech, spend a few days relaxing, I would complete the securing and pack-up process for traveling, and we would pull the Toy Hauler back to my place on the 19th.  We did the relaxing, and I did the organizing, but were no longer going to try to move the Toy Hauler with my truck.  Good thing, since there were few new issues, like;

  • It snowed.
  • Temperatures dropped to single digits, and at one point, fell below zero. In 3 days, the furnace burned through a 30 of propane, and everything was rock solid.
  • The ground was frozen with my stakes and boards in it.
  • Now because both of my propane tanks were bone dry, it forced us to bring all my frozen belongings into her nice, warm cabin where we spent most of the time we were up there.

But that’s okay.  We enjoyed a nice break together.

Step three, a little more complicated. After the monumental effort it took to park the toy hauler up at the property on Leech Lake, I knew that getting it out of there would be an epic event.  And it sure was….

First, let me say once again, thank the Gods for great friends and neighbors.  The plan was to head up to Leech Saturday November 22nd  and pull the trailer out of there with my good friends June and Randy.  We didn’t even get to Leech until almost dark, then struggled with getting the Toy Hauler furnace working again.Escape

Next we surveyed the property.  Everything was beyond frozen. After all, it’s been below zero for 15 days straight! The stakes, wood blocks and levelers were frozen into to the ground.  There was a layer of ice, covered by several inches of snow the entire length of the way out of the property, and it is all at an incline to get out.  We had a much, much work to do.

Then the temperature began rising, and soon it was above freezing.  Randy evaluated the situation, then began to shovel away a path around the storage shed to follow.  The snow was slushing up, uncovering a bit of ice that would likely turn to mud.  Soon we realized this was going to be a precarious Sunday project.

Sunday morning I was up early to walk the dogs and finish loading up my thawed belongings that were in the cabin.  The temperature climbed to over 40 degrees.  We should be dancing, but in fact, the warm temp turned our escape route into somewhat of an ice skating rink.  We were able to pull most of the stakes from the ground and pry the boards and levelers out, but knew we were in for an icy challenge.  Even with the massive power of his big truck, pulling the Toy Hauler uphill out of there was  going to be a sliding nightmare.  We hooked up, loaded dogs and overnight bags, and got started.Escape0

Escape1The initial 20 foot pull getting around the building went surprisingly smooth,  thanks to my earlier weed whipping and raking efforts to widen the space, and the shoveling Randy did, but the celebration ended there. The next section turning left up into the driveway and getting between the trees was beyond hell.

It was hard enough to get the Toy Hauler into the property under ideal dry conditions with less than a foot of clearance on each side.  But toss in the packed snow, ice and sliding?  Good gawd. Not even remotely reasonable.  Simply, totally, awful!

With June and I on walkie-talkies directing Randy, still, we tried, and….well…..his tires started spinning and what the hell, gutters are cheap…..so…..anyway…..it’s not that big of a deal that we clipped one o my gutters off on that damn tree…..at least we didn’t get my awning, too.

OMG.Escape2

Escape3OVER AN HOUR OF THE THREE OF US CHOPPING DOWN THE PACKED SNOW AND ICE ALL THE WAY UP TO THE ROAD FROM THE BUILDING, COMBINED WITH FOUR HOURS OF ATTEMPTS TO MANUVER THOUGH THE NARROW PROPERTY EXIT, SCRAPING THE SIDE OF THE TRAILER ON ONE OF THEIR SIGNS (YES, 3 MORE INCHES AND THE TOY HAULER WOULD HAVE WRAPPED THE TREE), TRYING TO SQUEEZE AND SLIDE UPHILL BETWEEN THOSE TWO DAMN TREES.

A clipped off gutter and a small scrape?Escape4

Oh, yes.  It could have been so much worse.

My trucks engine would have blown for sure.

Thank the Gods for Yoga and one nostril breathing.

Escape6Most importantly, a super huge Thank You for June and Randy who had the big truck, the man and woman power, and the where-with-all to hang in there with me to get it done.

I love my Toy Hauler.  And now we are one giant step closer to our Sub Zero Escape to warm weather.  After what I just went through, I may not ever come back!  The countdown continues………

Life is an adventure!  Are you waiting for an invitation to experience an amazing life full of adventure, or do you just go make your own?  There are lots of inspirational stories under my blog category, “PRs Amazing Outdoor Adventure Update”.  If you find yourself not doing what you love, I invite you to contact me for help to create your own, amazing adventure.  Please feel free to share with others who may find meaning and value in exploring the possibilities with PR Brady AdVentures.

EZ Lasagna

This Lasagna is so easy.  You don’t have to cook the noodles—you use them straight out of the box!  Start to finish, I have this prepared and in the oven in less than 20 minutes.  You can too, and it is sooooo very good!EZLasagna

1lb burger
1 large chopped onion
16 oz tomato sauce
6 oz tomato paste
2 ¼ C water
1 T sugar
1 t worcheshire sauce
1 T oregano
1T garlic powder
1T Italian seasonings
 
1 package uncooked lasagna noodles
1 lb sack of shredded mozzarella
 
  • Brown burger and onion in a large skillet
  • Add next 8 ingredients, mix well and simmer until heated though
  • Arrange a layer of raw noodles in the bottom of a rectangle baking pan
  • Top with 1/3 of the sauce mixture
  • Top with 1/3 of the mozzarella
  • Arrange another layer of raw noodles
  • Top with 1/3 of the sauce mixture
  • Top with 1/3 of the mozzarella
  • Create one more layer of each
  • Bake, covered, for 1 hour at 350
  • Remove from heat and uncover
  • Let stand 10 -15 minutes before serving

One pan makes enough for at least 6-8 people

Sound yummy?  If you try it out let me know what you think!  Check out more great recipes under my Killer Cookin’ blog category, and please feel free to share with others who may find interest and value in PR Brady AdVentures!

I AM JACK! Part 1

IAmJACKHi.  I am Jack.  I am a good boy.

I am really smart.  I am eight.  I like to hunt and play ball.  I am a Pointer.

I have lived most of my life with the very famous human, Loral I Delaney.  She taught me and my brother a lot about hunting with humans.  I am an amazing hunter.  I point to exactly where the birds are.  Then when they fly up and get shot, I go get them for my human.

One day I heard my human Loral I talking to another human about giving me away to another home.  She said she had too many dogs, and it would be a good thing for me.  She said it would help the new human to “heal”.

I was worried what that meant.

Then that new human came to see me.  I recognized her smell.  I hunted with this human and her German Short Hair and my Loral I, when I was very young.  I remembered she was nice, and convinced Loral I to let me ride in the truck instead of the kennel when we were done.

This is the human I am going to go home with?  Where is her German Short Hair?

I hear them talking about me.  A trial for a week or two?  See if I will fit in?

I was worried.  I want to fit in.  The human opened the back of her truck, and they put me in a kennel that smelled like that German Short Hair.  I searched anxiously for my humans eyes.  Loral I looked at me and said “Ok Patty, good luck, let me know in a week how you feel about Jack.”  And they closed the truck door.

I got scared.  I am Jack.  I am a good boy!

When we got to human Patty’s house she tried to lift me off of the truck to the ground.  I was embarrassed but grateful for the help.  She brought me to a big fenced in yard with lots of new smells and vertical objects to pee on. There is a strong scent of females here—where are they?  This is awesome!  I ran all around the yard, full of energy and excitement.  I couldn’t help myself, my long, wagging tail gave me away.  Although it was faint, I could smell that Short Hair everywhere.  When is he going to show?  Seems he hasn’t been here in a while.  Maybe he is with the females I smell?

MeetJack2I found out real fast that I don’t belong in the area where there are places to sit.  Those vertical objects should not be peed on.  I will try hard to remember that.  I will try hard.

This new human Patty brought out a brown bag, and pulled a red and white braided rope out of it and tossed it to me.  That was a surprise.  I gave it a sniff, wondering why she did that.  Then she presented me with a couple rubber toys, another rope toy, and an orange ball.  All these things for me?  What a grand surprise!  I collected them into a pile in the back of the yard and rushed to her to say thanks.

She pet me, grabbed me by the sides of my head, and told me I was a good boy.  Yes, I am!  I am Jack!  I wagged my tail hard to show her how happy I am to be here.  I rubbed on her legs like a cat, and looked up into her face.  Her eyes were sad.  I stood tall and proud for her.  I danced and jumped and wagged tail for her.  Every time she said my name I came right to her with great excitement.   She pet me and told me I was a funny boy.  Funny?  I thought I was being charming.  I will win her heart.

She started doing yard work.  I should help.  I danced in the leaf piles, and when she would bend over to scoop up leafs I’d sneak up from behind, thrust my head between her knees, look right to her face, and wag my tail.  Eventually she started to laugh.  Ha!  I am a good boy! But then she started to cry.  Did I make her cry?  Oh No!  She sat down on the wooden deck and cried.  I ran up to her with great excitement and enthusiasm.  Look! I have the braided rope!  I dropped it to her feet and nuzzled up to her chest.  She wrapped her arms around me, telling me I was a good boy.  A sweet boy.  Oh I like to hear that!  She hung onto me tight.  Then I knew.

That German Short Hair isn’t coming back.  That is why she is sad.  She has a broken heart.

Well, I am just the dog to fix that.  I will show her.   I am Jack. I am a very good boy.  I’ve been trained by a famous human and I am really smart, just like that German Short Hair was.  Smart enough to know that I can make this new human Patty happy again. Meet Jack1 That’s what I will spend the rest of my days doing.  I will walk at her side, wag tail, play ball, point birds, go get them, and cuddle up with her at night in gratitude that she is my human.  Just you watch and see.  I am no replacement.  I will be a whole new adventure for this human.  And I will win and mend her heart.

I am Jack.

Wait—what’s that?  Oh my, what the heck are those two blonde hair balls running towards me?  Are those her females?

Gulp.

 

You can read all about the adventures me and my new human PR (Patty) are going to have together in the outdoors…. I will write lots of stories under “I AM JACK” in her blog category, “Words From The Wild”. I will be careful not to have many typos.  I am a good boy!  Please feel free to share with others who may find meaning and value in our journey together, and PR Brady AdVentures.

 

Yummy Drummies

MarinatedDrummiesHere’s a wonderfully easy entertaining recipe guaranteed to be a crowd pleaser.  It takes a little pre-planning, but the results are well worth it!

25 – 30 Chicken Drumsticks*
1 ½ C Water
1 ½ C Soy Sauce
1 ½ C Sugar
½ C Sweet Pineapple Juice
¼ C EVOO
2 T Garlic Powder
2 T Ginger 
  • Mix all ingredients into a large capacity bowl or pot
  • Peel skins off of drumsticks
  • Place drums into bowl and marinate at least 24 hours (I usually marinate 2 days, stirring several times)
  • Remove them from the marinade, and lay the drumsticks on a tin foil lined cookie sheet
  • Sprinkle a little of the sauce across the top
  • Bake at 350 for 1 hour, turning drumsticks once at 30 minutes.

Serves up to 15 people

*In order to decrease portion size and serve more people, I have, on occasion, switched to using chicken thighs.  In this case I would recommend bone in, and about 40-45 thighs, without skins.

Sound yummy?  If you try it out let me know what you think!  Check out more great recipes under my Killer Cookin’ blog category, and please feel free to share with others who may find interest and value in PR Brady AdVentures!

 

NO TIME FOR THIS! Home Cold Remedy

What’s a good time to be down for the count sick with a horrible influenza, respiratory or big bad common cold?  When can you blow off 3 weeks?

NEVER, right?

At least that’s how I see it.  I’m never sick.  Well, hardly ever.  I just don’t participate in those wimpy, irritating little nuisance colds that everybody passes back and forth, the ones that just kind of hang on for what seems like an eternity.   And I certainly want no part of those mega viral infections that last a good 3 weeks with lingering bronchitis crap for another month.  When I do feel something coming on, my initial plan of attack is “positivity combined with denial and lots of water”.  I tell myself over and over that everything is peachy and I am not sick, then “act as if” I’m fine all day and push through it like normal (and that means healthy lifestyle, food and exercise).  That, and I drink a bunch more water to flush the system.  After all, I just don’t have time to be sick.  Who does?

But once in a great while, some mutant, alien mega-germ will find its way to me.  The kind that you don’t get back up from for weeks.   It hasn’t happened in years.  But one just tried to rear its ugly head at me Last Thursday.

THE SYMPTOMS:

Thursday late afternoon, November 6th I noticed something was off.  I felt tired.  More tired than I should.  I shook it off, figuring I’m running like crazy to catch up from being gone hunting, getting ready to leave town, all the home maintenance chores and throw a bonfire party in between, and well……of course I’m tired!  I pressed on.  I’m not sick.

Friday morning when I woke up my back hurt.  My legs hurt.  My arms hurt.  Pretty much every joint in my body hurt.  Dang.  Must be from all the walking, tree climbing, and equipment carrying I did up north.  It’s all catching up with me.  I need to get moving, get circulating, get going; I’ve got a party to plan for!  So I did.  I can’t allow my “to do” list not get done!  On top of the rest of my food and beverages, I slammed 5-16oz bottles of water like nothing, wanting more.  But heck, at least I’m not sick.

Saturday morning, the same thing.  Woke up with whole body pain, and very tired.  So tired, that I actually napped for 20 minutes to recharge.  Still, I went to the store for final groceries, cooked, did last minute cleaning and organizing in the yard.  The neighbor came over to help chainsaw down some wood.  If only I could squeak in another nap. But by 5:00, wooo hooo it was party time!  The yard was hopping with friends and fun that went on until about 10:30 Saturday night.  Although I wasn’t quite myself, I kind of forgot how crappy I felt.

Sunday morning —SPLAT!—death warmed over!  My eyes opened but I could not move.  Could not.  My body hurt so bad it was scary.  My chest felt like an elephant was on it.  I couldn’t breathe through my nose.  I couldn’t take a breath through my mouth without going into a raspy chest cough.  “I am not sick.  I am not sick, I have things to do to prepare for the coming snow, I have people to call, arrangements to make, I am not sick.” I crawled to the kitchen, made breakfast and coffee, and blew my nose for 15 minutes.  I tried to tackle my list.  Nope.  I was dizzy. I was coughing.  I was blowing my nose.  I hurt everywhere.  My chest! OH!  I lay down.  I was miserable.

Am I having a heart attack?  What if I die?  How long before someone notices?   I’ll just lie down for a few minutes…..

I wake up from having slept pretty much all day.  My “positivity combined with denial” tries to kick in.  Oh, this is silly, I’m not sick! I was just tired from partying and the smoke from the fire didn’t help.  I force myself up and call a friend to chat.  Our conversation perked me up enough to try to get things done before the days over.  I head outside at 4:30, determined to finish yard work before the big snow storm hits.  Bending over scooping up leaves into the bag made me dizzy. I was dreadfully out of breath, wheezing, coughing, with numbing pain throughout my body.  I barely got it all done. Once again I got help from the neighbor; this time to securely cover my fish house and snowmobile for the winter.  I staggered back into the house at 6:30 Sunday night.

Okay, I might be getting sick.

I crashed on the couch until almost 10pm.  When I woke up it was safe to say I was totally sick. Yes, despite my denial and positivity and determination, I seem to have been slapped with some mutant alien virus that is trying to keep me down for the count.

And I don’t have time for that.

THE SOLUTION:

Sunday night 10:30pm, my temperature a whopping 102.5.  I drank 3-16oz bottles of water instantly, ate a mound of steamed broccoli, took triple doses of every vitamin I had in the house, which was Flaxseed, Fish Oil, Vitamins E, A, D, and Centrum,  500 milligrams IBProphen, followed by 2 shots of Jameson, and went back to bed.  The next 3 days were sort of a blur.

From Monday through yesterday (Wednesday) I have been awake for approximately 4 hours out of each 24 hour day.  During that awake time I have consumed:

2 – 1½ cup servings of hot water with 1t of Cayenne Pepper and a shot of lemon juice each day  ( first thinHomeColdRemedyk in the morning and again at about 8 pm)
10 – 16 oz. bottles of water a day
1 pound of steamed broccoli each day
1/2 gallon cranberry juice each day
1 quart of my home made tomato basil soup (a couple servings)
About 16 oz.  grilled salmon (2 meals)
About 16 oz. grilled chicken (2 meals)
Half a pot of coffee each day with a Tablespoon of Cayenne Pepper mixed in the grounds
A shot of Jameson or Makers Mark before bed

Most of my awake time was spent eating or preparing food and drinks, taking care of dogs, and checking email twice a day.  I barely got out to shovel off the front and back doorway and clear a runway for the girls (they won’t put their prissy little feet in the snow to go pee) from the snow storm.  And boy did we get a snow storm.  Each 15 minute shoveling spree I attempted caused me to sleep for 2 hours after.  Thank god my neighbor came over with his snow blower!  I managed to do yoga for 1 hour on Tuesday, and Wednesday.  The rest of the time I slept.

Now here we on Thursday, the sun is going down, and I feel like a million bucks!  All symptoms are gone.  The fever is gone.  The congestion is gone.  The pain is gone. The coughing is almost gone.  My skin looks great!  I’m HUNGRY for something other than broccoli for sure, but ladies and gentlemen, I believe I kicked what could have been a seriously nasty virus in the ass, in a matter of a few days.   Am I dreadfully behind with those lists? Hell yeah, but I feel better than I have in a long time–I’ll get caught up in a snap.

Important take-aways:

  • It’s true that taking a bunch of daily supplements minimizes in impact over time.  You are far better off eating your vitamins through healthy foods.  But a super-dose of vitamins when the immune system is compromised will shock the system and produce great short term results, especially when done in conjunction with other healthful steps.
  • Broccoli is the UBER vitamin C source—far more beneficial than drinking orange juice. Did you know that a 100 gram serving of steamed broccoli will give you 150% of the recommended amount of Vitamin C?
  • Cranberry Juice is loaded with important antioxidants.  It fights infections and cures sore throats.  Did you know that one cup of cranberries provides over 8000 antioxidant capacity?
  • Cayenne Pepper is such a miracle spice!  It is a super-detoxifier, epic pain reliever, and natural flu fighter.
  • Fish and Chicken—so important to consume protein!  Especially when the body is under attack whether it’s from illness, exercise or over use, lean proteins go right to the muscle to nourish the body in pain.
  • It goes without saying how important it is to drink enough water every day.   When the body is being attacked with infection, the need for water can more than double!
  • My tomato basil soup is bound to make anyone feel a little better.  There’s no place like home!  Here’s the recipe:
  • As for the shot of booze, well, it gets the Cayenne taste out of the mouth and helps to settle in for the night without going into a coughing fit.  Okay, sure, I’m rationalizing…..I just like a little nightcap…..

What is your sure fire instant remedy to thwart a vicious viral infection?  I’d love to hear.  Don’t have one?  Seriously, try my regime the next time you’re immune system is compromised.  It may work for you too!

Take Care and Be well!

You can read about all kinds of products, places and services I’ve found to be exceptionally great, or exceptionally not great under my “What’s New” blog category—along with many of my own handy little DIY ideas. I look forward to your comments!  And please feel free to share this post with others that would find value in learning about this information, and PR Brady AdVentures.

 

 

Buddy—A Series Of Adventures—Like A Bike

She first called the day I was packing for Leech with the girls. Thought I’d try a little deer hunting in those big woods.  It’s been difficult to go through the most glorious time of the year without you, Buddy.  Time in the woods with my bow would do me good.  Time in the gazebo thinking about you would be good, too.  I miss you so much, my boy.

“Hey, Patty, I was thinking on a little bird hunting. Wanna go?”  She asked.

And that was all it took. I fought hard to hold back the tears.  Hard.  Loral I is a good friend.  She is all about business with dogs.  I didn’t want to appear weak and cry.  Dogs die.  That’s life.  Get over it, right?  Well not so much for me.

So there was this long horrible silence as she waited for me to say “yeah, hell yeah, let’s go!” But I couldn’t.  I just couldn’t.

“I don’t have a dog.” I squeaked out on tightly held breath.

“What? What happened to Buddy?  Did you loose him?”

“Um, yes.” I forced out.  “Yes, on Labor Day.” I could feel my head pounding and the floor rushing up to meet me, so I quickly sat down, holding back hot tears and minimal composure.

Another long, horrible silence.

“Well that is too bad. He was a great dog.  You really did a good job with him.  But, I got dogs.  Lots of dogs. They need to hunt.  Let’s go!”

Buddy, I sat there trying to imagine going out without you. I couldn’t.  Just couldn’t.  You and I had countless great times hunting with Loral I and her various dogs.

“Um, but I’m heading out of town for a couple weeks, then I’ll see.” Ah, the perfect excuse.

Half way through my stay at Leech she called again.

“So, when you coming back? I got 7 dogs I gotta work, and I need your help!  Let’s go!”

And that was all it took. I fought hard to hold back the tears.  Hard.  Loral I is a good friend.  And truthfully, she is the only other human that I have the good fortune to hunt with for years.  Season after season of hunting alone, throws such a bittersweet twist to my passion for the outdoors.   Just the fact that she want’s to hunt with me, makes me cry with gratitude.

I can’t lie to her.

“I don’t think I can, Loral I. I, I, I just don’t know.”

Sure you can. It’s like riding a bike.  Buddy would want you to get back out there.  Let’s go next week.  You’re back then, right?”

“Okay.” I responded with a heavy sigh.

The next week I walked and walked trails, 3 miles to my stand, 3 miles back and the last time I came out of the woods I found squatters right on my trail. Good grief.  It was time to go home.  I packed up the girls and headed south.  I was barely unpacked before the phone rang.

“So, I can get us a field on Thursday afternoon. Does that work?”

And that was all it took. I fought hard to hold back the tears.  Hard.  Loral I is a good friend.  Clearly she thinks I am in crisis.  Maybe I am.  I can’t bear not having you with me, Buddy. But the fact that this accomplished, amazing woman cares enough about me to bug me this hard, well it means more than I can say.

“Okay.” I respond with a heavy sigh.  And I spend the next 2 days gathering up my bird gear, looking at your bird gear, crying about bird gear, and curling up on the futon in an emotional pile with the girls.  Your collar has remained wrapped around my right ankle since you passed.  I can’t imagine removing it so my boot will fit.  But I have to…I have to break that connection.

When I arrived to her house, we spent half an hour loading up dogs. She had 7 in mind to bring, ranging from 8 months to 3 years old.  Some labs, some pointers, all amazing.  The first dog we worked was an 8 month old tank of a lab—his name was Chocko.  The sheer joy he displayed romping through the field was infectious! I threw pigeons, and watched her work with him to figure out how to track.  We proceeded with Reggan, and Eva.

Then it was time to canvass a field that had actual pheasants in it. We had Topper and Lola out.  Topper was on my side of the field, bounding through tall grass.  A bird flew up right in front of me and I couldn’t even raise the gun.  It would have been an easy shot, but my head wasn’t in the game.  I turned away to the open field, hot tears falling behind my shooting glasses.  Topper was not you, Buddy.  I stood there, weeping, embarrassed, afraid I was doomed.  It happened again, and again, and again.  Thank goodness I’m hunting with an International Trap Shooting Champion.  Loral I covered me over and over in my pathetic frame of mind.

She didn’t say a word, either, about my gross inability. I just shot and shot and missed and missed, until I was reaching for another box of shells.  It was a long afternoon.

Then we went back to the trailer and took out Pistol and Ice; a couple of 3 year old pointers with stark white and black speckled short hair. Buddy, I’m pretty sure you hunted with them when they were mere puppies, showing them the ropes.  They moved like liquid silver, especially Ice.  Their boundless energy, long tails wagging, and serious nose commitment to the ground felt like home.  They both ran to my side, flanking me as if they wanted to guide me.  We headed down the field with Loral I off to the far left.  Then they both froze in place. I stepped ahead and a rooster flew up in front of me. FirstBirds2014

“BOOM!”

It spiraled to the ground and both dogs ran for the fetch. I became anxious, wondering if they would find the bird the way you can find the bird. Rule number one, trust the dog, it’s what they do.

Yeah, Loral I is right, it’s like riding a bike.

Apparently, I’ve been cured. Thanks, Ice and Pistol.  And endless thanks to you, dear Loral I, for making me get back on that bike.  I am so grateful for our friendship.  Can’t wait to go again!

Buddy Boy McBrady
Gone Forever Bird Hunting as of Monday, Sept 1st 2014 at 3:30 pm
“Find us some good fields up there, boy, and I will see you again soon.”

 

You can read all about my boy… there are lots of stories under “Buddy – A Series of Adventures” in my blog category, “Words From The Wild”. Please feel free to share with others who may find meaning and value in our journey together, and PR Brady AdVentures.

 

 

 

 

Warm The Toes Cider

WarmTheToesCiderOh the weather outside can be frightful. But inside, it can be delightful.  When you’ve got hot cider ready to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

1 Gallon Apple Cider
1 Quart Cranberry Juice
1 Quart Orange Juice
1 ½ cups Lemon Juice
1 Cup Sugar
1 T whole cloves
1 T Allspice (whole if you can find it)
8 Sticks Cinnamon
  • You will need a giant pot ( I use my canning pot )
  • Place the whole Cloves and Allspice in Tea balls or cheese cloth tied closed with a string and drop into the pot with the cinnamon sticks
  • Pour all ingredients into the pot
  • Simmer on the stove at least 2 hours before serving
  • Keep the pot on warm all day**

Serves a crowd!**

**Now I’m not suggesting it is a requirement, but this cider sure goes good with a little shot of Captain Morgan, or Jameson…………….

Sound yummy? If you try it out let me know what you think! Check out more great recipes under my Killer Cookin’ blog category, and please feel free to share with others who may find interest and value in PR Brady AdVentures!

 

 

The Game Tracker, Part 1

In the beginning, I was the girl in the background, ease-dropping on the “guy conversations”, wanting to know more.

Oh, but I wasn’t invited into those dialogues. Instead my curiosity was met with sarcasm. I endured smirks and taunting’s, like “What?  You want to shoot Bambi? Awwwwe, you wouldn’t shoot Bambi, would you?”

Once I finally expressed interest to a more temperate boyfriend, I became the girl wearing mismatched, oversized men’s camo clothing.  Clunking along through the woods with my size 7 feet in a men’s 11 Sorels.

From there, I trailed behind several boyfriends, trying to do exactly as told; walk quietly, no sudden movements, sit still, stay down wind. Oh, how cute I was.  Oh, how patronizing things were sometimes.  I was “darlin” and “sweetie” and “hon” a lot.  I would be told “horror stories” about field dressing and blood trails, challenging my sensibilities.

Then I built my own bow.

I was given a hodgepodge assortment of 5 arrows.

I practiced daily.

I became a really good shot.

In 6 years and 4 boyfriends, I spent many days in the field, but had yet to bag my first deer. It was in those early years that I discovered a few important things, like; not all guys were good hunters, and watching a guy take a 250 yard “Hail Mary” shot across an open field while screaming out obscenities might not be the thing to emulate, and what it took to unwrap and eat a snickers bar without getting caught. It was in those early years that I discovered my paralyzing, unconquerable fear of heights, and my intuitive comfort level being alone in the woods.

I discovered hunting was my calling.

Shortly after those 6 years of trials, tribulations and “ah ha” moments I landed the dream job that would shape the rest of my life: selling ads for a leading hunting magazine. The floodgates of knowledge and opportunity opened up for this girl in a matter of weeks, as I met virtually every major manufacturer and personality in the hunting industry over the winter.

I found a new circle.

And it wasn’t at all like the one I started out with.

The first “real” hunting attire I was given was more exciting than getting a diamond ring. A complete TreBark camo outfit—still the most cherished articles of clothing I own.  And although I was proud as punch to show off my self-built “compound bow in a kit”, Olympic Champion Ann Clark had other plans for me.  Suddenly I was the proud owner of a Hoyt Specta bow, which I still have today.  Then, Jim Dougherty presented me with a dozen (yes, a whole dozen!)  matched arrows. Clearly, my new colleagues were determined to have me “dressed for success”.  Soon I was to find out why….

That next fall I was invited to be part of the Inaugural All Woman Bowhunt, hosted by Bob Eastman, President of Gametracker Company. An elite group of a dozen women from the outdoors industry banding together for a week of media blazed deer hunting on Bobs private property; the “Tens Or Better Ranch”.  The group included amazing women like Ann Clark, Ann Hoyt, Jeanne Dunn, Kay Richey, Marilyn Nicholas, Kathy Beutler, Jan Bobsine, and my dear friend Loral I Delaney.  I confided to Loral I that I felt out of my league. I could barely contain my excitement to be surrounded by such fabulous women in a hunting camp.

Talk about going from rags to riches–surely I was dreaming! Was this all just a Cinderella fairy tale? I packed up my fancy TreBark outfit, a few other mismatched items, my new bow and arrows, and by then I had acquired a dozen Rocky Mountain Broadheads from Barrie Archery….

And I was on a plane to Michigan with Loral I.

Bob Eastman’s “people” picked us up and brought us to his home. Stepping into his house was like walking into a wildlife museum.  Dozens of stunning exotic mounts were displayed throughout the main floor.  Animals he had harvested from all corners of the earth were there.  It was truly breath taking.  I was in awe of Bob Eastman before I even met him.

And then we were introduced.

He was bursting with energy; a complex, articulate, innovative, creative man with a serious passion for the outdoors. I watched him bounce back and forth from playful banter with his guests to stepping aside with his staff to talk business.  He approached me squarely, enthusiastically, and addressed me by name.  He never once called me ‘darling, sweetie or hon’.  He pulled me aside and asked me questions about my work, and told me about his company.  He talked hunting with me on purpose, as an equal.  He was genuinely excited that I was a part of the group.  He made me feel welcome, but more importantly, he made me feel worthy, when, admittedly I was wondering why, with all the women to choose from, I was invited to be a part of this group?

1stLadiesGroupBob Eastman became my first outdoors idol.

One of the criteria for Bobs hunting event was agreeing to use his String Tracker product. Like most hunting accessories, I’d never heard of them until stepping into my new career, and I had much to learn. I was becoming a sponge for devouring information.  He spoke about the String Tracker with such conviction that by the end of the week, I was ready to go out and convert every bowhunter in the country.

By the end of the week, I was the only participant to arrow a deer. And it was my first deer, ever! And it was harvested using the String Tracker.  Cameras snapped image after image of Bob and I, Loral I and I, and just me.  The inaugural event wasn’t even over, but Bob was already talking about setting up the next one.

He made me feel accomplished. I was showered with lavish gifts including a hand painted wildlife scene from Chuck Denault. I was celebrated at dinner the last evening of our event, and my confidence as a bowhunter simply rose off the charts. That confidence has stayed with me for years and years.  And through the years of working in the hunting industry, Bob always treated me like a good friend and colleague.  He bragged about my first deer to everyone he came in contact with, even years later. 1stDeerWithBob

I am blessed to know Bob Eastman and have shared our passion for the outdoors in business, and hunting camp. His supportive, confidence boosting nature has made a lasting impression on my heart, and in my life.

 

You can read about all sorts of ideas, opinions and feelings from the heart and soul of an outdoorswoman… there are lots of topics covered in my blog category, “Girl Outdoors”, and “Words from the Wild”. Please feel free to share with others who may find meaning and value in my personal perspective, and PR Brady AdVentures.