Monday, January 31, 2011

Camp Dog Cajun Seasoning

Recently I received a package containing Papa Scott's Camp Dog Cajun Seasoning.  I have been looking for years to find a seasoning that compares to the authentic Cajun flavor I experienced while Goose Hunting in Louisiana and was delighted to find Papa Scott's Cajun Seasoning.  This video explains how I came across the product, applications I used it in, and how you can get your own to try.



I hope that you enjoy this product as much as I have.

r.b. wright

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Fishing with my girls...the way they tell it.


Once again I find myself commending the Outdoor Blogging Network (OBN) as a result of reading the latest “writing prompt.”   I could spend days, even weeks, writing about the countless memories I have of learning to fish under the instruction of my father and my grandfather. I could tell you of the many days my friends and I would slip through the woods, across Blake’s field, and fish for hours from a bridge into the ditch of a creek catching very small pan fish. I could tell you many stories about that time in my life – but I chose not to. Instead, I look forward to sharing  my greatest “childhood fishing memory” through the eyes of my three daughters. There are three different perspectives…three different trips…and three different fish; however there is one common theme – they each began to understand why I love to fish and I could see the love beginning to develop in them. I appreciate you taking the time to read their perspectives.




Ashtin – 6 years old - First Grade

Ashtin, her big Bream and me.

One day, I went fishing with my daddy and Uncle Lenox. We were fishing for a long time. My cork went under the water. It made me feel good and happy. I knew I had a fish. I reeled it up. I saw the fish and it was a Bream. He had yellow on his neck and his eyes were brown. He flapped his fins and wiggled. My daddy unhooked the fish and we took a picture. I was really happy. Then we threw the fish back in the water. We wanted to let it live.

I am happy that we let it go because the fish likes his home. He has food, a family, and friends there and the canal where we fish is clean. Uncle Lenox feeds the fish every day. Nobody throws trash in the canal. That keeps it nice for the fish. I love fishing with Daddy and Uncle Lenox. I love the fish too. I want them to have a nice home so they are happy and I can keep fishing.




Jillian and her first fish...Bass!
Jillian – 9 years old - fourth grade

One day  my sisters Emma and Ashtin,my step-dad and I went to Uncle Lenox’s house to go fishing. It was a beautiful afternoon. First, we ate lunch because everyone was starving. We had peanut butter and jelly and it was awesome! Then, we got our gear and rods. Uncle Lenox went to get bait. He came out with some crickets and worms. When it was time to put the bait on, the only thing I would touch is the worms…definitely not the crickets.  I put my line into the water. Next, I waited and waited and waited…then I finally saw my line go side to side and back and forth. I really was not looking but, sure enough Uncle Lenox was. He told me that I needed to pay attention!! When I pulled it up, there was a huge bass. I was so excited and everyone took pictures. That’s the day I caught my first fish and I would not have been able to catch that bass if there was trash in the water. Also we should remind ourselves if we throw trash out in the water, animals could mistake it as food.  Liek I said, I am glad that people at the lake do not throw trash in the water or I would not have been able to catch my first fish.





Emma – 10 years old - fourth grade

Emma and her "hammerhead" Bream
 'Tweet, Tweet' went the birds. It was a beautiful afternoon at the lake and we were going fishing. I had NO idea what was in store for that day. "Are you coming?", I called over my shoulder to Daddy and my little sister Ashtin. We had to go across the street to the little pier. When we got there, we got our rods ready and got them in the water. At that very moment I felt a tug. All of a sudden, that tug turned into a pull that got faster and faster and faster! I started winding it in as it darted back and forth, side to side. I kept trying to wind it in. "I can do it" I thought to myself as Daddy was telling me what to do and Ashtin was standing off to the side staring at me . Finally, it was getting close to the pier. It felt pretty heavy as I pulled it up to the pier. When we finally got it up, I carefully took the hook out of his mouth. He was a Bream. I got a picture or two with him then let him go.

Walking back home, I realized that we might not have the ponds, lakes, and beaches we have today if we waste water and litter. We could really hurt animals. If we litter, animals could mistake it and eat it. If we waste water, not only are we hurting animals and taking away their water, we are also hurting people…without water we cannot survive.


I really enjoy being a father – but I love being a Dad. Admittedly, these girls are not the biggest fans in the world of my hunting, and I understand that, at their age right now, they do not fully grasp the true “spirit” of hunting. However, these girls love to fish. It is an incredible feeling to be on a boat, shoreline, or pier with any one of  my three daughters. Our conversations may not seem very deep while we are fishing – but they touch the inner depths of my soul. God in His infinite Wisdom chose not to give me boys --- instead he gave me girls. I am thankful. I love their perspectives. I love their companionship…and yes, I am even learning to love "pink" fishing rods.

Thanks again for the read and follow.


r.b. wright





Wednesday, January 19, 2011

The Outdoor Challenge part 2

Discusses the "challenge" and how getting in shape can help you enjoy the outdoors more.





r.b. wright

Monday, January 17, 2011

Short clip of thousands of snow geese

This is a short 40 second video of approximately 50,000 snow geese.  We came across this as we were leaving our hunt...great footage and these snows are loud.  I will have the full video from trip uploaded next week.

  Enjoy....









r.b. wright

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

r.b. wright outdoors welcomes new Prostaff member

New video introducing Terry Wright to the r.b. wright outdoor family. Terry lives on the coast of NC and has developed an incredible reputation in regards to inshore fishing over the last twenty years. Phenomenal guy, phenomenal fisherman...hope you enjoy.



r.b. wright

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

What's in a name....more than you may think.

There are many benefits to being a part of OBN, one of which I like is the frequent writing prompts that are given. The most recent prompt is titled, “It’s your Blog…Name”. The basic premise behind this prompt is there are numerous creative names in the blogger world and we are to explain how we came up with ours. Wow…when you look at the name of my blog – r.b. wright outdoorsI am certain that you are blown away with the originality and creativity that seems to literally seep from every letter. Do not let the name fool you…there are over three decades of thought going into this name.


It is Sunday afternoon in the fall of 1978. We had come back home from attending church in our small southern NC town. I was seven years old donning a leisure suit, minus the wide collared polyester suit jacket, drawing with my younger sister at our dining room table. This is something we did every Sunday afternoon and it generally played out the same way. Beth would be drawing little pictures of butterflies, puppy dogs, birds, and family. I would be drawing stick deer, fish, pick-up trucks and a store front. The store front would always be named something like – The Fishing Hook or The Hunting and Fishing Store – you know real original stuff. When I came into this world, I was dubbed R. Bryan Wright, but everyone called me Bryan. During one of these Sunday afternoon art sessions, my sister said I should name my store R.B. Wright’s….that is when the vision began. I made it clear back then when I grew up I wanted to get paid to hunt and fish. My friends thought I was crazy. They wanted to be policemen, firemen, and one guy wanted to be an opera singer (that is another story). The funny thing is they all grew up to be different things. Byron is owns a software company, Brian is a teacher, Kevin and Charlie work with the S.B.I, and I do not know if Luis became an opera singer or not. (Last I heard he was married with 4 kids) I never wavered from what I wanted to do and thirty-two years later still have not.

Let’s fast forward to 1989. I have just graduated high school and I am sitting at the top of the stairs with my parents having intense fellowship about the direction in which my life should go. When asked what it was I wanted to do with my life, I simply stated, “I want to hunt and fish.” I remember my father, who is the smartest and truly wisest man I know, stating – “Have you lost your mind son?” You see, Dad has never been a hunter and he enjoys fishing, but not to the extreme that I do. He grew up in an era and a home life that did not afford the opportunities that I had nor that I hope my children have. He believed that I would be heading for disaster due to the fact that I was not truly prepared for what the world can do to a person. Dad was right. I knew that I loved to hunt and fish but I knew nothing about business nor did I have anywhere the knowledge about the industry or the sport(s) that I do now. I was attending Methodist College (now Methodist University) and I needed a job to supplement my “outdoor fund” while I was in school. My mother was running a small mortgage company at the time and suggested that I work for her part time while I was in school. Well, you guessed it, one thing led to another and over twenty years later, I am still in the mortgage industry overseeing the entire production for NC and traveling across the state as a Real Estate trainer. This occupation has provided well for my family and has given me tremendous experience in dealing with B2B sales, B2C sales, and has honed my presentation skills incredibly. It has also afforded the opportunity to network with those who love the outdoors all across the state and allowed me to hunt/fish in every region of NC. I have been able to fly fish in the streams of Western NC and catch Cobia off the shores of Hatteras. I have been able to hunt deer, turkey, hog, and bird (waterfowl and quail) with people I never would have met and places I never would have been had it not been for the path that I chose against my will.

Let’s fast forward now to present day. I love my wife. I am married with three daughters and a dog. We have a really good life. My wife, Jennifer, has been pushing me for the last year to pursue my dream of “r.b. wright outdoors”. With technology the way it is today, I do not need a storefront. As a result of this blog and outlets like OBN I do have an opportunity to run a business and network with other people who love to hunt/fish. She, Jennifer, has been a driving force in making certain the dream I have never fizzles.

So to some, the name of my blog may not be that creative. To me, it is the dream that I had since I wore the leisure suit.

r.b. wright

Monday, January 3, 2011

Next time ... The one that got away

My entire life I have heard stories about the one that got away. I have had buddies say – “You should have seen this buck” or “I know that bass was a record”.  I have always laughed and knew there was some exaggeration in what they were saying. Now I find myself looking back on those stories and thinking….maybe they were telling the truth. Why am I now second guessing these stories of the past? Because I now have one of my own and there is no exaggeration.



Let me set the stage. It is December 31st, 2010 - the next to last day of whitetail season in N.C. I have been hunting all year and have had a decent season. I have seen some nice young bucks. I have harvested some does and cull bucks for meat. Truthfully, I have not been disappointed. Shortly after the rut began winding down, I began to explore even more the land that I hunt. I know it is odd to do this in the middle of the season, but much of my land was under water during the off season. I hunt an area that has over 2 miles of shoreline on the Black River. It is covered with water oaks and cypress trees (truly beautiful). One of the slews that I duck hunt generally has two to three feet of water; however, in late November of this year it was just a moist bottom covered with acorns and cypress knees. I came across a ridge that allowed me a bird’s eye view of most of the slew and also into an oak thicket. I decided that I would hunt this area the remainder of the season, then further investigate in February for sheds and stand placement. During my hunts here I saw numerous deer, including two of the does I harvested, several young bucks, and the buck that I chose to cull due to its antler growth. I also discovered several rubs and scrapes and knew that there was a larger buck here than I had been seeing. On Friday, the 31st, I was sitting against a tree when the sun came up across the slew. The slew was still covered with a layer of snow that we received five days earlier (something that is highly unusual for this area) The woods came alive as a group of twenty or so woodies flew over the slew. I began watching squirrels as they worked fiercely at accomplishing their mission of touching every single tree in the bottom. I was greeted by a group of hens flying down form the roost above me. A group of does made their way across the bottom feeding on the vast supply of large acorns. It was a spectacular morning….one that I knew should end well. Over the next two hours I lost count of the species of wildlife I had seen. I watched deer, ducks, geese, turkeys, squirrels, fox, a bobcat, and birds of every variety. I remember how amazingly bright the cardinal looked with the snow backdrop. I sat there thinking about how fortunate I was to have a place like this to hunt. I also thought about the doe I had harvested the afternoon prior while hunting for hogs on my buddy's land. Although our primary mission was to harvest a hog, he had made it clear to please thin out the deer population and harvest a doe if the hogs chose not to visit us….this is exactly what had happened. Sorry about the tangent – back to the story - around 9:30 a.m. I began to hear the sound of distant hounds. In southeastern North Carolina, it is still legal to use dogs to hunt deer. For those of you not familiar with this style of hunting, hunters turn a group of dogs out on a fresh deer track and surround a block of woods using the dogs to drive the deer out. Like most deer hunters in southeastern N.C., this is how I was introduced to deer hunting. I have since grown to prefer the art of still hunting but enjoy the sound of the dogs in the swamp. Two of the tracts of land adjacent to mine are leased by “dog hunters” and occasionally the dogs will run the deer onto our land. I must tell you at this point that a buck is a truly intelligent animal. I have seen dogs hot on the trail of an old buck and he (the buck) will lead the dogs into a group of does diverting them to a doe trail and he will slip off unharmed. It is really amazing to watch. As I was listening the freight train of dogs echoing through the woods, I realized they were getting closer to me. I stood up with my shotgun in hand wondering what they could be after. I saw movement across the slew and watched as three does hopped across the bottom about two minutes ahead of the dogs. These deer were coming straight for me. The closer they came the faster my mind began to think... "Do I need any more meat” “Do I want to clean another deer today?" "I think I can get two of the three" You may laugh but this is what I was thinking! I could hear the snow crushing against their feet and the sound of the dogs was deafening in the river bottom. I chose to let the does pass and shortly thereafter the dogs that are hot the trail. As I am watching the last dog leave I hear a crashing in the bushes thirty yards from where I am standing. I turn and see the largest buck I have ever seen in the wild get up from his bed and begin to run full throttle in the direction the dogs had come from. I quickly lift my Benelli to my shoulder trying to get my Truglo site on the bucks vitals. He is moving with such speed and agility that it is near impossible to keep in the line of fire. He, presumably unintentionally, is able to build a barrier of trees between himself and I. I fired at the first three opening I had and each was unable to hit its mark. The buck had already reached 75 yards before I was able to squeeze the trigger the first time. I watched as he danced his way through the bottom and towards the river. I knew that I had done nothing but motivated him to run faster. As I set on the ridge for the next thirty minutes replaying the scene, I realized that I had actually accomplished something here. I had just witnessed a creature that most people would never see in this area. I had proven my theory that big bucks prefer these bottoms, which is why I was trying to find a way to hunt this area in the first place. I also realized that I now have the upper hand. I know where he lives and odds favor the fact that he survived this season. I am already looking forward to next hunting season. By the way, the picture above is not this deer - if I had taken a picture of him, it would be with me holding his head up!  This picture was the closest I could find to resemble him.

Life is funny. There is always something that happens that motivates us to keep doing what we do. Maybe it is that one good golf shot during a round where we shot 112. Maybe is it the line breaking on the one fish we hooked all day. For me it is seeing the buck that I have wanted to hunt my entire life and knowing that I am not hunting a figment of my imagination, but an intelligent, beautiful animal on his turf. I respect this King of the bottom and I look forward to the challenges that I will face this upcoming year in my attempt to harvest him.

I look forward to hearing your stories. Don’t forget about our upcoming challenge to get in shape in 2011.

Talk to you soon,


r.b. wright