I wanted to advise readers of a new, and quite possibly dangerous, disease researchers have just uncovered in the hunting/outdoor community. It’s called Offseason Gear Deficiency Syndrome or OGDS. Researchers found people suffering from the disease all share one trait in common, best summed up with the quote “When I can’t hunt anything else, why not take a shot at my wallet?”

Symptoms include finding something on every page of Cabela’s, Bass Pro, Midwest Turkey Call Supply or L.L. Bean catalogs they “need” and “can’t live without.” Spouses of those afflicted with OGDS report a lot of drooling occurs when said catalogs arrive in the mail.

Spouses also revealed they try to stave off the onset of the disease during the late winter months by getting to the mailbox first and discarding the catalogs. This only leads to looks of bewilderment, however, from OGDS sufferers when their hunting buddies – also OGDS sufferers – start talking about the “great new turkey vest on pg. 46.”

Luckily, there’s hope. Just like any addiction, the first step in recovery is admitting you’ve got a problem. One OGDS survivor has agreed to tell his story here. Of course, his name has been redacted from his original statement to protect his privacy – and keep him out of the doghouse.

My name is, well my name isn’t important, but I have a problem. It’s called Offseason Gear Deficiency Syndrome; when I can’t hunt anything else, I take a shot at my wallet.

The offseason is slow – I would imagine golfers feel the same way, well anyone other than Tiger – so an addicted archery junkie has to fill the time somehow.

There aren’t enough 3D shoots anymore, you can only read books, magazines and surf the Web so much, so what am I supposed to do? You plan for next season and that means trying new gear or fixing up old stuff. For me it usually comes down to a couple of new recurves joining the collection.

I know I would shoot better sticking to just one but that’s simply impossible for me. Besides someone has to keep the economy rolling, right? Maybe my small part means some bowyer or retailer or average Joe makes it through another week. And I get a new toy. There really aren’t any losers here….as long as I stay employed and my wife doesn’t get the bank statement before I do, anyway.

Therapists say the first step in recovery is admitting you have a problem, just like our anonymous addict above. If you’re unsure if you, your hunting buddy or spouse is an OGDS sufferer, take a look at the symptoms list below.

1. You look at every hunting/fishing catalog that comes in the mail cover to cover while walking from the mailbox to the front door.

2. You continue to look at said catalog for the next week, planning how and when you will purchase each item.

3. You repeat the phrase “If I had (insert product name here), then I could kill (insert species name here).

4. You hide your new purchases in the garage, away from your spouse so they won’t ask how much it cost or why you need another one.

5. You have more than one of any gadget or product and never use any of them.

6. You have a “special” bank account that no one else but you knows about, just so you can purchase hunting gear anytime you want.

7. The balance of the bank account mentioned above never has more than $20 for longer than 3 days.

If you answered “yes” or can relate to any of the above symptoms, then you should seek help immediately, preferably by getting into the woods on the first legal date of hunting season. If needed, travel to another state where the season opens sooner is an approved method in the recovery process.

For more information about OGDS, contact your local sporting goods, bow shop or fellow hunter for support.

Shannon Salyer, a friend who works at Chevalier Advertising, posted an interesting blog from the ATA Show recently.

Check it out, it’s definitely worth it.

http://chevalieradv.blogspot.com/search/label/shannon

After the birth of my first son, I made a promise to myself to never hunt in a treestand without a safety harness again. I’ve had too many close calls without one and figured I would like to see my boys grow up.

Since that time, I’ve tried many different makes and models. There’s the lineman’s-belt style, the has-too-many-straps-and-gets-confusing-on-which-strap-goes-where style, the I’m-not-sure-this-thing-will-hold-me-if-I-fall style and many others that didn’t quite make the mark. I then had the luxury of trying out one of the Hunter Safety System’s vests. With their seat-belt-buckle style and easy attachment tether, I haven’t had a need to try a different vest.

Since that first model, the guys at HSS have continually updated and changed their products to simplify safe treestand hunting. They’ve made a lighter vest with more pockets, a reversible hunter-orange vest for gun hunters and more accessories than is seemingly necessary for any hunter.

One such accessory, however, may top them all. This year, HSS rolled out their new 360 Extension Limb and it may be one of the best inventions for gun and bowhunters alike. The idea is simple: To keep yourself from falling out of the treestand, you have to stay attached to the tree. Makes sense, doesn’t it? Well, if the point of attachment to the tree is over your right shoulder and you shoot right handed, then when you go to draw your bow, you have to either maneuver around the tether, which could ultimately lead to testing out the weight capacity of your harness, or wait until the deer moves into your ideal shooting lane, which, as we all know, doesn’t happen 99.9 percent of the time.

Given these facts, the HSS team devised a way to stay attached to the tree AND not have to worry about the tether. The 360 limb screws into the tree and even comes with a strap for that extra bit of confidence. When you go to shoot or draw, the tether allows you to move anywhere and still keeps you connected to the tree, so if you fall you don’t die.

You can check it out at www.huntersafetysystem.com.

That sound you just heard was my season coming to an end. Although, you would’ve had to be listening hard, because instead of going out with a bang, it ended with more of a whimper.

I’ve spent the last couple weeks analyzing what I’ve learned since September and realize even though I didn’t stick a trophy buck – or any buck for that matter – I have meat in the chill chest and some really good stories to tell. And yes, I will make a nice big batch of tag soup and put it in the freezer. I’ll thaw some out from time to time so I can remember the mistakes I made throughout the prior season and ponder the true meaning of hunting obsession.

I guess that’s about all anyone can really hope for at season’s end. No broken bones or torn muscles, no equipment to replace or hospital bills to pay. Just the gentle reminder of the open space on the garage wall – the only place my wife will let me hang a trophy – that sits empty until next season.

So, it is with great regret that I officially bid adieu to the 2009 deer season and wait anxiously for April and the first day of turkey season when I hope to redeem my status as El Presidente of the MBBA and move back to the general membership. (Speaking of which, keep an eye out in the coming weeks for a photo of yours truly in the official MBBA El Presidente shirt.)

I had possibly the best hunt of the year the other night. Not because I made the perfect shot, I saw the most deer or even because the weather was ideal. It was the perfect hunt because…wait for it…I finally did everything right.

Those who are regular readers may now close your mouths. I know the shock is hard to handle.

I spent the afternoon in a great spot, an old pond dam that’s obviously not been doing its job for quite some time, allowing a slow trickling stream to flow through a hardwood bottom. The area near the dam is beautiful: oak and pine trees tower over the forest floor and there’s not too much scrub around to block shooting lanes.

I chose a pine tree to climb – the way the teeth on my climber grab the bark gives me just a little more comfort, not to mention they’re abundant in S.C. – and had clear, 30-yard shooting lanes in all directions. The wind was in my face the stream trickled behind me and the rain stopped just as I got settled in.

All in all, it was almost the perfect hunt. I say “almost” because there was only one thing lacking: the elusive Odocoileus virginianus. (Don’t ask me how to say that…your guess is as good as mine.) The only animal I saw that evening was a squirrel bounding up the tree next to mine, oblivious to my presence.

I guess it just goes to show you that no matter how perfect the setup, no matter how ideal the situation; sometimes the deer just don’t cooperate. That’s OK though, there’s still two weeks left in the season.

My wife, Leanne, two sons and I spent Saturday afternoon at a Christmas tree farm searching for the perfect tree to adorn our living room. It was a cut-your-own place, but lucky for me, they did have some pre-cut trees ready, and without too much encouragement from me, Leanne chose one of those. We (meaning Leanne, of course) spent quite a bit of time looking at each tree, evaluating its width and height and finally settled on a nice tree to our (her) liking.

While waiting on Leanne and my oldest son, Drew, to get back from a hayride, I got to thinking about how choosing a tree to climb when you’re in the woods is very similar to choosing a Christmas tree. You try and find one that has the right width and height, isn’t crooked, has branches in all the right places, etc.

So, when I ventured to the woods Sunday afternoon, one would assume I would have had those things in mind seeing as how I just spent the previous afternoon thinking about it. (Notice I said “assume.”)

Anyway, I found a great spot where three trails merged on the edge of a field and decided to find the “perfect” tree to climb. Unlike Leanne and the Christmas tree search, however, I simply chose the first tree that looked good. From the outset, I thought I made a good choice. It wasn’t too big, but not too small, either. It didn’t have any branches I had to cut on the way up and so therefore I thought it to be the perfect tree. Man, was I wrong.

After I got my stand attached to the tree, my safety harness strapped on and began my ascent, I realized this particular tree got really skinny in a hurry. Not only that, the oak branches I thought I could climb right through were attached to the pine I was climbing via a network of vines, making it impossible to break through unless I did quite a bit of pruning and sawing, which I didn’t have time for since I had lollygagged around on the walk in. So, at about 8 feet up, I decided to settle in. I fastened the seat of my Summit to the tree, sat down, pulled my bow up and knocked an arrow.

After about 15 minutes I decided it would probably be a good idea to stand up and see where my best shooting lanes were located in the off chance a deer came by. Lucky for me, I chose to do this before a deer walked through. As I stood, the oak – and the vines attached to it – attacked my head and face; when I practiced drawing, the limb/vines to my right took hold of my arm and the branch to my left completely blocked any view I thought I had. It was at this point I pulled out the pruners and went to work. Twenty minutes of pruning, pulling, grunting, sawing and making enough noise to alert any deer in the zip code of my presence later, I had a somewhat workable situation.

It wasn’t until I settled back in that I realized what kind of vines were attached to the oak. Anyone care to guess? Yep, my good friend, poison ivy.

It really goes without saying that I didn’t see anything, but I promise the 100 squirrels around me sat in awe at the spectacle and I swear I heard them laugh. I know I saw at least one smile.

Maybe next time I’ll just take a blind. Or take Leanne with me so we (she) can find a tree to our (her) liking. With the homerun she hit with the Christmas tree, it’s worth a shot.

I didn’t want to go, I won’t deny that. It was cold for South Carolina – mid 40s, raining with a NE wind blowing a steady 15 mph – and I had already decided to sit on the couch and watch TV the rest of the afternoon. A nap was definitely in order.

Then I got the call.

“I forgot you had that blind, let’s go hunting.”

I dreaded it. I even tried to talk him out of it. But, in the end, I went. And I’m glad I did.

I’d been inviting the landowner of the new place I’m hunting to join me all season. And each time I asked, he was either out of town, had family commitments or just couldn’t make it. So when he called Sunday, I knew he was anxious to go. Heck, you’d have to be hardcore to want to hunt in that kind of weather, even if you are in a blind.

So, reluctantly, I drove the 20 minutes to his house. We loaded up – in the rain – and headed out to a new spot – in the rain – and set up – in the rain. We were definitely early enough. By the time we got settled, it was about 3 p.m.

After we got set up, the rain stopped and my spirits lifted. I actually found myself getting excited until the rain started again – harder than before – and dampened my hopes yet again. But it was worth it. Listening to the sound of the rain on the roof of the blind, laughing at stupid jokes and merely spending time outdoors with a good friend is some of the best therapy there is.

Of course we didn’t see a thing, but it didn’t matter, we had fun. And that’s what it’s supposed to be about, right? Not about antler size or the great shot. It’s about fun. I get caught up in all the hoopla surrounding hunting too much to enjoy it sometimes. When someone tells me they killed a deer, the first words out of my mouth are typically “Congratulations, what’ll he score?”

That’s not the way it used to be, at least for me. When I first started hunting, no matter what time it was or what the weather was doing, if I wanted to go hunting during deer season, Dad would take me. And, when I inevitably wanted to leave 30 minutes before dark because I was too cold or hungry or just plain bored, he never said a word other than “OK, let’s go.” And he always said it with a smile. Sometimes we’d see deer, most times, though, we didn’t. And that was OK. If we hunted in separate stands and I saw or killed a deer, he never asked, “What’ll he score,” he would just smile and be happy that I saw something, period. Why? Not just because he was my dad, but also because he was a fellow hunter and a friend.

Of course, I would never discredit the rush you get when you finally get a deer in range and put the perfect shot on it; that’s a feeling you never shake and it’s why we sit in a stand for countless hours. Heck, I’m still hunting for the big boy, too. But, in the end, really, isn’t it about the fun you have and the people you meet?

Think about it: If you couldn’t talk strategy or share stories or commiserate with someone because you made a terrible shot, would you still hunt? I guess I might, but it definitely wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.

So, fellow hunters, the next time you feel yourself obsessed (see My Obsession Revealed) or burned out or whatever, take a minute to reflect on why you hunt and ask yourself “Why do I hunt?”

I can just about guarantee that “What’ll he score?” won’t rank among your top three.

Taking some liberty with the title of Mossy Oak’s TV show by the same title, Obsession Revealed, I thought I would let you in on what has seemingly become an obsession of mine this season.

As I’ve said previously, I got permission to hunt a new piece of property this year. By all accounts and signs, it’s a great spot. There’s only one problem: I’ve seen a total of 1 –yes 1 – deer on this place so far. What I thought was going to be a slam dunk on every hunt based on the amount of sign I saw when I scouted has become an obsession to get even a single deer in bow range.

The thing is, I have permission to hunt another spot that’s loaded with deer. Actually, good friend and NWTF Public Relations Manager, Brian Dowler, killed a nice buck there recently. And, the owner of the property has been nice enough to let me hunt pretty much when and where I want to, but I have yet to set foot on the place this deer season.

Why? Because I’m obsessed with the new place. At least, that’s the only reason I can figure.

At first, it was the newness of the spot; I was excited every time I got to hunt. I liken it to when you first started dating the hot girl in high school. All you wanted to do was spend all your free time with her. You talked on the phone way past curfew, made plans for the weekend and dropped anything and everything to spend your time with her.

From there my budding obsession progressed into the “I-can’t-believe-I’m-not-seeing-anything” phase. I would leave each hunt scratching my head and calling my hunting buddies with new theories as to what the deer were doing – or not doing in this case. (Ask Dowler and Mr. BG, they’ll tell you they’re sick of hearing about it.)

Now it’s at the begging stage. I sit in the stand or blind and try to connect with the deer through mental telepathy – I told you I was obsessed. I beg for just the sight of a deer. Heck, I’d take seeing the hind leg of one at 60 yards at this point. But alas, it hasn’t happened…yet.

So, since my wife and boys have been out of town, I’ve been hunting as much as possible. Anyone care to guess where I went?

After consulting with fellow hunters, and given my own miss last week, it’s time to update the MBBA Executive Staff. If you need a refresher on what the MBBA is, see the post titled “The MBBA – You’re Already a Member.”

Since a more recent miss trumps an older miss in our inverted system, I have moved up the food chain to the office of VP. I also know MBBA member Bob missed not once, but twice on a recent hunt, so he takes over the office of El Presidente.

Last names have been left out to protect the ones who missed from more scrutiny than they’ve already endured. Of course, if you know the offenders, please feel free to contact them with a congratulatory laugh.

The new standings are below:

El Presidente: Bob. Bob took some tail feathers off a turkey, missing the vitals, and gave a buck a haircut on a recent hunt, thus lofting him to the office of El Presidente. (+6)

Vice President: Yours truly. I missed a doe at 15 yards, broadside. I’d like to say I barely missed, but the fact remains that I completely shot over her. No idea on that one. (+3)

Secretary: Shannon. Shannon missed a doe with her compound while on an Illinois hunt a couple weeks ago. (+3)

Secretary: Lang. Lang missed a nice buck with trad equipment recently. (+1)

Have people you know who should be on the Executive Staff? Post a comment below and I’ll add them to the list.

I’ll be the first to admit it: I was certain I’d see a nice 140-class buck walk broadside at 15 yards on my recent Kentucky hunt. And, I’m also certain you know what happened – or didn’t happen as the case may be. While I saw plenty of deer, there was no 140-class buck. There were does – lots and lots of does – and two or three young bucks hanging around the area, but no big boys.

I did manage to connect on a young doe the first morning, putting the perfect shot on her and watched her fall 50 yards away from my stand. Then there was the older doe I missed at 15 yards, broadside the second night of the hunt. (You’re now reading the writings of the Vice President of the MBBA.)

But, all is not lost. I still have a Kentucky buck tag and although I may not have connected on the monster I was after on this trip, the season stays in until after the first of the year. Chances are, I’ll be back in the stand before season’s end and hopefully won’t be eating tag soup this spring.