Spring 2006 - Scinw.com

“Doug & Ted’s
Excellent Adventure”
Our Hunting Heritage is Alive and
Strong.
Story by Doug Rasmussen
In 1968, Ted Ewald was kicked in the head
by a pack horse. He suffered injuries that
would forever change the way he lived—
and hunted. I first met Ted two years ago.
He showed off his impressive collection of
African and North American trophies.
Last fall I gave Ted a call to see if he
wanted to hunt at the Lawson farm in Colville.
The Lawsons offer a wonderful opportunity
for hunters who need some help (call
us disabled, handicapped, differently-abled,
or whatever) to have an enjoyable and
workable experience hunting whitetails.
I found out (the hard way) that Ted is just
about as fearless as they come, and we
shared a near disaster that turned into a
wonderful lifetime memory.
I arrived at Rob Allen’s house (deer camp!)
the day before Ted’s hunt. While settling in,
Ted called and notified me his caretaker
couldn’t make it, so we would have to cancel.
Rob informed me that Ted thought he
would never hunt again. Ted had broken
his hip in a severe car accident, which also
ended his driving, two years earlier.
I immediately made several calls, but only
one guy was available to chauffer Ted on
such short notice—me!
Getting both of our wheelchairs into Ted’s
van the next morning took close to an hour,
and I worked up a sweat in the pre-dawn
cold. I made Ted buy me a hot latte.
After Larry Lawson watched us struggle to
get out of the van, he said to me, “This is
gonna be a tough one.” I had no idea, even
by that time, how right he was going to be…
I was eager and optimistic, and Ted had
kept me quite entertained with his stories
from years of touring with a Grand Ole Opry
star. We were both having lots of laughs
and it seemed like it was going to be an
easy and wonderful day.
Larry dragged a couple of hay bales into a
field by an old apple tree, creating the
world’s most beautiful blind (cover photo),
then left to go finish some work. After waiting
a while I noticed some deer in a higher
field. I guess we were both a little impatient
and Ted said he could easily make it up into
the field to try for a shot...
So we set off. Ted blazed ahead in his motorized
chair. I slowly and carefully pushed
my manual chair down the gravel road with
his beautiful Ray Tipke-built Sako across
my lap. We traveled about a hundred yards
to the field entrance, which is a short, but
steep, slope. We needed to crest the hill to
get a shot and Ted raced right up. He
watched patiently as I struggled to work my
way up the grassy slope, occasionally stopping
to give my pounding heart a rest and
keep the shifting Sako balanced.
When I was finally within a foot of the crest,
Ted eased his chair over the edge to take
the rifle from me. As he reached forward,
his rear wheels came off the ground, losing
traction. As if I wasn’t having a hard
enough time, I now had the combined mass
of Ted and his chair leaning down on me; all
teetering on the brink of disaster. But at
least we were stopped!
Ted was trying everything to dislodge from
our position, but to no avail. I was trying not
to breathe. His wheels were just spinning
on the grass and my adrenaline was taking
over. I urged him to stop and hold perfectly
still while I set the rifle in the grass. It was
really precarious! Now I felt I could free
myself and move aside to hold onto his
chair to keep him from tipping… Suddenly,
just as I got clear, Ted jammed the joystick
forward. I couldn’t believe my eyes! The
man has no fear and knows only one
speed—Full Throttle!
I let go of his chair to keep upright as he
bounced past me down the hill. On the second
bump, his chair bounced sideways and
he flipped over on the hill, still strapped in
the seat. I watched in breathless horror as
his head struck the ground and everything
stopped. Ted and his chair. My heart. The
World!
“My God! Ted, are you alright?” I yelled.
“I think so. But my arm hurts a little,” Ted
said calmly.
We were half a mile from the house (and
help) without even a radio. So much for
leaving the comfort and boredom of the
blind!
6
Ted’s arm was pinned beneath the arm of
his chair by all of his weight. Somehow I
managed to get out of my chair and lift Ted
and his chair free.
All the while, we had some good laughs.
You know, that necessary, nervous kind of
laughter for relief!
His arm had a nasty scrape, but no broken
bones. I got him comfortable on the hill and
raced for help.
Ted never lost his smile or sense of humor.
Larry loaded us into the Scout and we went
and shot one of the does we were after.
Ted made a perfect heart shot that dropped
the deer in its own shadow.
At a WDFW CWD checkpoint on the way
home, several of Ted’s longtime INWC buddies
were thrilled to see Ted and hear our
story. I honestly can’t say which one of us
felt prouder! We will never forget that day.
Many of us who hunt at the Lawson farm
have life-changing and confidence-inspiring
experiences. We are able to forget our
troubles for a time and feel what it means to
hunt.
For the Lawsons it is even more meaningful
than that...
2006 Doe Hunts
For the third year, the Lawsons of Colville
have graciously extended their invitation
for disabled folks to hunt 10 does on their
beautiful 500 acre farm, free of charge.
To date we have a 100% hunter success
rate! 4 does in 2004. 6 does, 4 turkeys
and the Editor’s buck (pictured on page 3)
in 2005.
Hunters may use any legal hunting
method.
Call Doug at (425) 836-8977 for info.
Jim Mace, a C3-4 quadriplegic from Spokane,
took his first-ever deer at the Lawsons’
in 2005. He is pictured with his motorized
shooting rig and crossbow. Jim
used my 50 cal. Hawken on the doe.