Texas Style Jerky

Every deer season I get email asking how to make jerky. Everyone must like jerky and wants to know how to make their own. This has been my go to recipe for years and it sure doesn't last long around my house. My hunting buddys make it this way so it must be pretty good. If I take a bag of it along to deer camp or on a fishing trip it seems to disappear almost like magic. You can change it by adding other flavors and or spices but here is the basic no fail way I make it.
Cut lean strips of venison, beef, chicken or turkey. The pieces should be at least ¾ inch thick, but as large as you want them. Trim off all fat as it will turn rancid as the meat dries. Fill a large mixing bowl with water and stir in 1/2 cup of Brown Sugar and 1/2 cup Kosher non iodized salt. Stir in 1 Teaspoon of Garlic powder,½ Teaspoon of Allspice 1/8 Teaspoon of ground Cloves. Add meat and soak in the brine for 4-8 hours in a refrigerator. Remove meat from brine and rinse well in cold water. Roll or shake on coarse ground black pepper to taste. Do not use table ground black pepper or it will have too strong a pepper taste. Remember course ground pepper adds flavor fine ground adds heat. Arrange meat on a smoker and slow smoke with your favorite wood keeping the heat under 170 degrees until fully smoked. I smoke mine overnight. I use very dry or seasoned mesquite with no green left in the wood. If you do not have a smoker you can do this in your oven, just add liquid smoke to the original brine and dry on your ovens lowest setting or warm setting. Place a wood spoon in the oven door so moisture can escape and dry meat to the texture and hardness desired. You can then place jerky in a bowl in the refrigerator for up to a week to finish dehydrating. It never lasts that long at my place. Place any extra in a bag in the freezer and take out about 2 hours before you intend to eat it. It is worth it to take the time to slow smoke the jerky as the wood smoke flavor enhanced meat can never be matched by that made in an oven. Enjoy, Wild Ed

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Easy Gun Cleaning and Protection

I have been shooting since I was a small child. I still hunt with a Remington model 700 in .243 caliber that my father gave me when I was six years old. It does not look near as old as I do and that is mainly because I take good care of my firearms. These days there seem to be a lot of times that I just do not feel like doing a complete cleaning job on the family firearms when we come in late from a hunt or a day of target shooting. I recently was told about a gun care product that really sounded too good to be true. I have to say I am always skeptical of such claims on any product as I have used the old and true methods for years. I will always have a bottle of Hoppes #9 in my cleaning kit no matter what else is made as that was what my father, his father and every other relative I grew up with used to clean guns. I am also making room for some modern products as we get better and better with our science of metal care.

The gun care product I have been using is called EEZOX. I have been using it on some of my bolt actions and my AR-15 platform rifle and am becoming quite convinced that is one of the best products out there. I have found it to be an excellent lube for the AR-15 trigger as it goes on wet then drys and does not attrack grit. It is a multi use product and serves as a cleaner, lubricant and rust protection. I am finding by using EEZOX I do not have to clean my firearms immediately on returning from a hunt or shoot. I can put it off for a day or few and not worry about it. I will not try to go into all the specifics of how it works and will let those that want to know more read about it on the product website at the following link. http://eezox.com/ It is a product that serious hunters and shooters will want to consider adding to their gun care. I recently used it on my saltwater reels and will now add that to its uses as it seems to really do well as a rust preventive.

Hope you enjoy cleaning your gear more than I do,
Wild Ed

A Texas Thanksgiving Prayer

Lord we thank you for all our bountiful blessings that you have bestowed up us as the people of this Country and State. We thank you for the gift of life itself and all that we enjoy. We are so thankful to live in a free country and have the opportunity to worship as we please without fear of retribution. Lord be with our leaders that would preserve our freedoms and help us to destroy those that would remove those freedoms whether external or internal enemies. Lord watch over our soldiers that risk all to preserve our Christian way of life and our freedom. May you bless not only each of them but also their families. Help us all to remember that this Country was founded in faith and will fall without that faith. In GOD we trust. AMEN

PS: GOD bless each of you and
GOD bless Texas, Wild Ed

The Pickled Hot Dog Jar

When I was around twelve years old my family bought a pecan orchard on the Colorado River just north of San Saba, Texas. I was to spend many years roaming that place while honing my skills as a hunter and fisherman. I learned to cowboy, farm and most of the other skills it takes to run a large ranch and orchard. Many lessons of life were learned on that place along the Colorado. It is so funny the childhood memories that make an impression and come back to haunt you in your later years. I can remember during the school year we would leave every Friday afternoon and head south to the ranch. We would often stop at a small hamburger joint on the way, to eat and play pinball. If we didn’t go down until Saturday we would stop at a small country store, not far from the Colorado river, where we would buy snacks and a soda pop. They had strange brands of soda pop that I can not remember getting anywhere else. One of my favorites was called “Iron Hammer”. It was a grape soda made from wild mustang grapes. They had a big wheel of cheese and there were always several big glass jars on the counter with things like dill pickles, pickled eggs, pickled sausage links and pickled hot dogs. We would all get something to go with our pop and then we would sit down by the river and eat our snacks while watching the turtles and gars come up for air and break the surface of the murky river. I ran across a recipe the other day for old-time pickled hot dogs or sausage links and just had to try it. It brought back a flood of memories and the taste is authentic. There is a jar in my refrigerator right now. If you remember these things and would like to try and make these at home, here is the recipe. Feel free to adjust it as you want.

Enjoy your old-time junk food, Wild Ed

Pickled Hot Dogs or Sausage Links.

4 cups water

4 cups vinegar (I used cider vinegar)

2 TBS salt1 TBS Louisiana Hot Sauce

10 drops red food coloring

Crushed red pepper flakes to taste (I used one TBS)

1 tsp cayenne powder (optional)

2 garlic cloves

enough hot dogs or sausage links to fit in the jar

Put hot dogs or link sausages in a sterile jar, mix other ingredients and boil for a few minutes. Pour over links, and put in refrigerator for 7 days before eating. The longer they are in the jar the hotter they get. I used HEB classic hot dogs but plan on trying the jalapeño and cheese hot dogs in the next batch.

PS: They taste great with a big hunk of cheddar cheese, crackers and a grape pop.

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Continue to Learn

I finally made a commitment to continue to learn and signed up for a Photography class at the Dougherty Arts School in Austin for this next semester. I need to progress past mostly point and shoot and learn more about the science of photography. I now plan do so by taking this first step. We shall see how it goes, Wild Ed

Here are a few shots I took today at Mills Pond in Pflugerville.

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The Stranger at the Campfire

This is a true story, as I believe it, that I have related to only a few people. It is of a strange and haunting event that comes drifting into my consciousness every once in a while. Last night I had a dream and saw the visitor in my minds eye again. By telling the story I am hoping the stranger will quit sneaking into my dreams. I will tell you that I do not believe in ghosts that walk the earth but know that strange things occur. I also am aware that the Bible speaks of spirits and demons. The following is my story as best I can relate it to you.

Many years ago my brother by choice, Ken, called and told me his family company was purchasing a ranch to hold as an investment. The ranch was located in far North Texas in the remote Caprock Canyon Brush Country. The place was supposed to have deer and hogs on it and he wanted to know if I would like to go up and spend the weekend. He planned to explore the ranch and possibly do some hunting. I was told it had an old cabin we could stay in while we were there. I always do the cooking on these trips so I began to get the supplies together that we would need for a weekend. I picked up some nice steaks along with some baking potatoes for the first night. There is nothing quite like a good steak grilled over mesquite coals when you are out on a hunting trip.

I drove from Austin up to Abilene to meet Ken. We loaded his four wheel drive truck and started the long drive north. It was almost dark when we arrived at the gate of the ranch and we saw no game as we drove to the cabin. We quickly unloaded the truck and each of us threw our sleeping bags on a bunk in separate rooms of the cabin. I then gathered some dry mesquite and started a fire in a stone fire ring out back of the cabin. I placed the grill I had brought over the fire and wrapped the potatoes in foil to bake while the fire burned down to coals. After a great steak we enjoyed the warmth of the fire and the company of a good friend until we decided to turn in for the night.

It had been a long day and the warmth of a sleeping bag to ward off the North Texas chill was welcomed. The moaning and creaking of a windmill just outside my window made it difficult to go to sleep but exhaustion got the better of me and I finally nodded off. I awoke to notice the flickering of the fire reflecting off the walls of my room. I set up on the edge of my bunk and looked out the window and noticed that someone had put more wood on the fire and the flames were swirling in the wind. Smoke was rising against the cold filling my view with eerie white clouds in the freezing night air. At the edge of the illumination but close enough to take in the warmth of the fire stood a figure dressed in a western duster with the collar pulled up to block the cold wind. A familiar silver belly hat was pulled down over his face so that I could not make out the eyes. His hands encased in golden buckskin gloves held a steaming cup of coffee against his chest as if he was savoring the smell as much as the taste. My first thought was to get dressed and go have a cup of coffee with my bud, but thinking that my snoring might have driven him out into the cold I decided to let him enjoy the fire and his thoughts without my company. Besides the coffee would keep me up the rest of the night. As I climbed back into the warm sleeping bag it felt to be the right choice.










When I again woke there was a pinkish golden glow in the sky to the east. I walked to the front door and went out on the porch to relieve myself. The pre-dawn sky revealed an unbelievable scene with stars visible that I had not seen in a long time. Frost covered the ground and brush while my bare skin tingled with shock as I stood against the cold wind and looked at the sky. It never ceases to amaze me how visible the stars are when you get out in a remote area where the sky is dark with no lights from the city. I returned to the cabin to get dressed for the day. I lit the propane stove to make coffee and prepare breakfast.


The coffee made, eggs and sausage cooked, I hollered at Ken to get up for breakfast as I took the biscuits from the oven. After his brief morning ritual Ken came to the table and asked how I had slept. Feeling guilty about driving him from his bunk with my snoring I immediately started apologizing for waking him up in the middle of the night. He looked at me with a strange look on his face and replied that his head never left the pillow until he woke just a few minutes before. I retaliated with the fact that I had seen him standing out by the fire in the middle of the night. Visibly seeing that I was getting upset he again assured me that he had not moved from his sleeping bag all night.

I hurried outside to the fire pit where the fire still burned in the early dawn. No one was around and I could find no evidence of someone coming or going other than the fire not yet burned down to coals. We were miles from anywhere and would surely have heard any vehicle driving into the ranch. Anyone coming in on the road also would have had to come through a locked gate. The cowboy I had seen at the fire was dressed in period cowboy clothing but that is the usual garb for Ken or me when we are not on a hunt where camouflage clothing is needed. Both of us were wearing Silver belly old style cowboy hats on this trip and either of our coats would pass for the one worn by the stranger at the fire. I never found anything that pointed to who or what was standing at the fire that night. I will always wonder if he was sent for me and something kept me from going out to the fire that night. I can think of a lot worse things that could come in the night. Peaceful dreams, Wild Ed

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She-Hunter

Experiencing nature as she awakes is a true delight. Birds are the first to hear as they begin to stir and make their “new day chirps”. They flitter from tree to tree as if shaking off the stiffness of the passing night. I have always found it amusing to have one perch near me in the tree stand, with that questionable look trying to determine whether or not I’m part of the tree or something to fear. When they stay longer or leave undisturbed, I know that those extra steps to camouflage me are worth it. The hat, the face drape, the gloves, the clothing and shoes all play a part in blending me into the tree. In the past I have also had squirrels check me out, but not this morning, the first day of the 2009 season. I’m glad… they sometimes give me away.

As the sunlight begins to spread across the field, that short-lived temperature-drop reminds me that I DID need the extra jacket my husband, Ed, and his brother, Mike, suggested. Far off I see a small buck jump a fence, and then another soon after. Too bad they are heading away from me. As I scan the area, I look back over my shoulders just in case one walks up on me. What a surprise it is to see one browsing below you! But that did not happen today.

I’m a pampered hunter. My husband does many things to make my hunt the best possible and easiest on me. As he drives me to the stand, all the safety rules and shooting tips are reviewed to make my hunt safe, successful and enjoyable. When we arrive, he holds all my gear as I climb up the ladder, insures my rifle is set in safe-mode and hands it and my other gear up to me. He waits while I get situated and watches as I bolt in the first cartridge and set the safety. He always throws out a couple of extra handfuls of corn and gives me the “thumbs up” sign before driving away. As the taillights disappear, my body takes in a deep breath and sighs as if to say “Okay girl, your on your own”.

Another hunter has settled into a blind several hundred yards away across the property line, but the noise coming my way tells me there must be a new hunter in the group. It is amazing how sound travels when you are trying to be silent. Just like the swivel seat in my tree stand… wish I had thought about adding oil to the squeak prior to opening day. Even acorns falling sound like a big varmint in the bushes.

Out of the brush to my left strolls a doe. Ten yards behind her comes a buck…a NICE buck…a PROUD buck with his head held high. He looks across the pasture to the other hunter’s blind. He turns and trots back into the brush. “Oh my gosh”, I whisper. “I’ve missed my chance!!” Ed has always told me to be ready, because you may only have a few seconds to make the shot. Out came a second doe, but no buck. The gun rest is positioned at the right corner of the stand, but I try to steady the gun with my left arm as a rest. I wait… no buck. “Okay”, I tell myself, “why not”… I try the bleat that Ed taught me; and sure enough, here he comes out again and looking my way. At this point I must tell you that I have shot several deer over the years, but when a large, majestic buck steps out and looks directly at you, your entire steadiness seems to fade. The cross hairs were dancing around and I was not sure whether to take the shot or not. “Breathe, just breathe”, I told myself and holding that breath I pulled the trigger. The buck looked around as if trying to locate the sound and then trotted off into the brush. I believe it was a clean miss… but what a kill it would have been! As the morning passed, only small, young bucks came my way, but watching and enjoying nature was worth the time in the stand.

Mid-morning Ed and Mike came to pick me up and because I had shot, we searched the entire area for signs of blood or a wounded or dead deer. Finding nothing eased my mind. Waiting for the afternoon hunt, we went into town for lunch and back out for a butterfly and bird watching episode under the oak trees.

With a few more pointers from Ed, I was soon back in the stand. The afternoon seemed to crawl. I watched cattle graze for about an hour before seeing any deer. I saw several, but nothing big enough to kill… until just before dark. A doe came prancing into the clearing with a “lovesick buck” chasing close behind. He really DID look silly because he had somehow lodged a green, stringy bush onto his left antler. As he pursued the doe, I got a steady rest and the shot was true. I love it when they drop right where you shoot them! He was a nice eight-point but his antlers were slight maybe because of the drought this year.

Now, back to being pampered… Ed, with Mike assisting, field-dressed my deer, skinned and quartered it all in the beam of a flashlight. What hunting partners! I couldn’t ask for more. It was a fun filled day with a happy ending and a very tired husband. Thank you sweetheart. I already smell venison chili, Jena.

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The Top 10% of Hunting and Fishing

Have you ever noticed that there are certain people that always catch fish or kill a big buck? Sure, anyone can get lucky and catch a big bass or kill the trophy of a lifetime. I am not talking about that. I am talking about the person that day-in and day-out kills a big deer or elk. We all know the fellow that goes fishing and comes in with a limit more times than not on a regular basis. My grandfather always told me that 10 percent of the hunters and fisherman take 90 percent of all the fish and game. That means the other 90 percent have to share the other 10 percent of the fish and trophy game. Not very good odds if you are not in the top 10 percent.

The purpose of this article is to tell you how to be in the top 10 percent. Now, I am not talking about the guy that has the money to go to a fancy game ranch where the bucks just step out in front of you, nor am I talking about those that can afford to fish in exotic destinations with the best guides. I am talking about being successful and in the top group wherever you hunt or fish. Remember, in order to be good at something you have to invest time, effort and money. One cannot pull Ole Betsy out of the safe or closet once a year, head into the woods, and expect to be in the top 10 percent of shooters and hunters.

Here is my advice to become good at whatever you pick. First try to go with others that are better than you are at the given task. Pay attention to what they do and ask questions. Learn what they have to teach and put it into practice. In this day and time you can buy books and DVDs from some of the best experts in their fields. If you want to become a top varmint hunter then get videos from the guys that win varmint hunting competitions or those that make the best calls and learn all you can from them. If you want to be a top shot take lessons from those that shoot like you want to shoot. Go on prairie dog hunts and practice long range shooting. On a typical three day prairie dog shoot, one will shoot more long range shots than most hunters shoot in a lifetime. What an opportunity to learn to be a top shooter. If you want to be a bass fisherman of note, learn all you can about bass; their habits and where they are in the water at different times of the year. Go scuba diving and watch bass. Learn everything you can about them and the equipment you need to catch them. If you want to learn the habits of an animal, get out in the field every chance you can. Don’t just hunt the seasons but get out and hunt with a camera in the off season. Practice, practice and practice some more.

Lastly but most important is to set goals and stick to them. If your goal is to kill a trophy 10 point buck, don’t settle for 8 point bucks. If you want to catch a 30 inch speckled trout then you must use baits and tactics to catch large speckled trout. That may mean fishing with large top water baits and catching nothing while others pull in 15 inch trout all day on shrimp tails. If your goal is just to catch more fish or fill you game quotas more often, evaluate how you are doing in reaching that goal. If you are not reaching your goal then don’t keep doing the same thing over and over. If what you are doing is not working change something and keep learning until it starts making sense. Did I say practice, practice, practice?

I know people that can look at an area and tell you where the bucks will be, where the predators will come from, what part of the field the dove will fly over or what part of the lake will hold fish. They were not born with that ability, but learned it just as you can if you are willing to put in the time, effort and money to be in the top 10 percent.
Have fun in your quest, Wild Ed

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Dick's Sporting Goods Strikes Out

We recently lost one of our big stores for hunters and outdoorsman here in Round Rock when the Sportsman’s Warehouse closed down. Cabela’s is an hour or more away depending on traffic and Academy does not always have what you need. I was excited to find they were building a Dick’s Sporting Goods store in Pflugerville about twenty minutes away. When I opened the paper Sunday Dicks had a big flyer with all sorts of stuff for the hunter and outdoorsman on sale. I needed a deer feeder motor, some camo, deer corn and several boxes of .243 rifle ammo. They had a big add running all standard caliber Remington Core-lokt ammunition on sale and also a $2.50 rebate coupon per box from Remington on top of that.

I made the drive over and started picking up the items I needed. When I got to the ammo counter I asked where the Remington Core-lokt ammo that was on sale was and a nice clerk took me over to a counter loaded with ammo. I picked up five boxes of Remington .243 cartridges and was told that they were not on sale. I asked to see the Sunday ad and it stated all standard calibers. I was then told that .243 was not a standard caliber. That was the first time in my life I ever heard that, the .243 is about as standard a caliber as they come. If I had been trying to buy .264 Winchester Magnums or .257 Roberts cartridges I could understand. I then asked for the rebate offer and low and behold .243 was listed in the rebate offer but Dick’s staff would not sell me the ammo at the sale price. I left without spending a penny in the store. Dicks has lost a customer and I will pass this on to all my friends. I drove back over to Academy in Round Rock and spent my money.
Live and learn, Wild Ed

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