ANGIE GOES A HUNTING AT THE BUCK MEISTER RANCH
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Introduction:
Hello my manly viewers.  I’d like to share a politically correct twisted story of mine that I think the hunters in my audience will find highly entertaining.  I wrote this piece after watching a Buck Masters Episode and thought it would be funnier than shit and that some hunting magazine would find it entertaining.  What I did find out from a few editors that I sent it too was that it was an unexceptable piece.  Why was it unexceptable?  Because the owners of Real Tree and another Camouflage Company their sponsors, would be insulted because they hunt at ranches like these all the time and are rather sensitive about the subject.

WHATEVER...  GET A LIFE OR HOW BOUT...

Get off your fat ass and scout to find your own bloody dear.  If you’re gonna be sensitive about killing trophy bucks by going to a ranch, then here’s a suggestion...

DO IT THE OLD FASHION WAY LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!  DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT ALL THE HUNTERS THAT WATCH YOU SHOOT TROPHY BUCKS AT A TROPHY BUCK RANCH THINK YOU’RE A STUD?

Quite the opposite, and no they’re not jealous of you, they’re laughing at you.

So please enjoy my version of a Buck Master Ranch...



Orvis Boy and Angie Visit  Buck Meister’s Mexico Hunting Ranch

One Sunday morning I sat with my husband and watched hunter after hunter in Mexico kill trophy buck after monster buck at one of Buck Meister’s premier hunting ranches.  Looking at racks that were 8 points or better we discussed how rare these white tails were here in the Northwest and how we should plan our next outdoor adventure to one of these ranches, instead of one of our long fishing vacations.  So my husband called and set up the trip for the following fall. 

The flight down to Mexico during late buck season was uneventful and things didn’t get interesting till our 400 pound guide came and picked us up in a candy apple red El’Camino complete with the fuzzy matching dice.  We looked at each other perplexed thinking that since we’d be hiking through high mountain terrain that our guide should be in better shape and that maybe we should be in some kind of SUV vehicle. 

We arrived late in the afternoon to the Juan Cabeza de Ricardo Cattle Ranch a 30,000 acre spread.  We immediately became excited as we saw all the does looking at us through the cactus and sage brush.  Then I noticed that they were all staked to the ground like sheep.  I asked our guide what was up and he explained that the does were stakeed to the ground to entice the rutting bucks to the area.

We then arrived at the ranch house where loud rejoicing could be heard.  A couple of hunters all dressed in mossy oak were tying one on and comparing the size of their buck’s antlers.  When we walked over to admire their kill we were treated to shots of the finest tequila.  The next thing we knew, we were waking up to intense pounding on our bedroom door the morning after.  I guess we had drank so much that we had blacked out.

Having a hangover we were the last to get ready.  Our guide was disappointed in us and told us that all the good stands were taken so he stuck us in the children’s cammie play stand behind the main house. Before we climbed into the mini stand with rifles unloaded of course, the guide gave us a pair of binoculars and an electronic tracking device.  He informed us that all the bucks on the ranch had radio tags and our tracking device would beep whenever they came within a 100 yards of our stand just in case we fell asleep.

Orvis Boy sat in the stand and played with the device while I trained the binoculars on our guide.  He slowly walked over to a large barn and opened a gate to a pen where he dragged out two drugged bucks that staggered about till he gave them a good whack on the butt getting them to go in our direction.  I blinked a couple of times to make sure I was seeing things right till I noticed that within every 20 feet there was a salt lick placed.

The first buck finally got off its knees and staggered right towards our stand.  I decided to take the first shot because Orvis Boy was just going crazy over all the beeps on the electronic device.  When the buck got within 20 yards I shot it in the chest and it immediately died.  The guide began running towards us with a huge 35 millimeter camera and I, ecstatic at my first 8 point ran up to grab the horns for a picture.  I screamed in horror as the horns immediately came off and I flew backwards.  What we thought was an 8 point was a doe disguised as one.  The horns had been stuck on her head with super glue that hadn’t had time to dry.

Then out of the brush came bounding out another buck.  Orvis Boy’s quick reaction was to shoot it but he gave it a flesh wound and it bounded off.  Orvis Boy began to go after it but the guide grabbed him by the arm and told him not to bother.  The coyotes would eat it.  There were plenty of other bucks to be had so why chase them when they’d come to us?  He than explained that the deer I had shot was a promotional trained deer used in pictures and he was awfully sorry that he had used it.  Now he would have to train another doe for the job and it was a pain in the ass.  He then suggested we have breakfast.

So we went back to the ranch house for breakfast and took a nap for the evening hunt?

Since we were the only folks to not get a buck that morning, we got the pick of the very best stand.  The stand was built on a sandero which was Mexican for “Busy Dirt Road”.    Our guide was breathing heavily because it was the longest hike (300 yards) he had to do this fall.  He showed us into the blind and then took out a huge bag and stood in the clearing.  Blowing a whistle and waving some enticing grass the bucks came out from behind the sage brush dozens of them.  He began to feed them by hand.

Orvis Boy couldn’t decide on which deer to kill till he saw a big eight point and shot it right through the lower part of the neck.  The other deer looked over interested and kept eating the sweet grass unconcerned.  We quickly jumped out of the stand and much to our amazement there was the buck of our dreams.  Buckzilla with so many points you couldn’t even count them.  I was going to shoot it till it rolled over on its back hooves waving them in the air wanting its belly rubbed.

Orvis Boy elbowed me hard and kept telling me to shoot it.  I raised my gun and took off the safety and then put it down.  I just couldn’t do it.  It reminded me of my pet lab at home and I reached down and began scratching its stomach.

That night when everyone was drinking tequila I played a drinking game and drank the guides under the table.  They never noticed when I dumped the tequila into Orvis Boy’s glass.  When they passed out I decided to go investigate the barn.

I was amazed when I went into the barn.  There were monster buck after monster buck kept in small stalls like veal to keep the meat tender.  Then I noticed a tall blonde man that finally saw me and introduced himself as Dr. Mengele.  He explained that he was injecting the bucks with a growth hormone.  He then introduced me to his assistant Kim Kobai, a lovely Japanese woman that was feeding the bucks beer and massaging their bodies.  I quickly excused myself and decided to never watch another Buck Meister show ever again.

The End
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