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The Motor City Birdman

A Commentary on Bird Watching from a Hunter's Perspective

Introduction

Ted Nugent and Bill Thompson, III, at the 2007 SHOT Show.

Guitar wildman Ted Nugent originally rose to fame as a member of the Amboy Dukes, and his later solo career featured such classics as "Cat Scratch Fever" and "Wango Tango." During the 1990s he was in the band Damn Yankees; since then he’s gone solo again.

Throughout the course of his long career, Nugent has generated a steady stream of controversy. There's no denying his exceptional musical talent, but it is his other high-profile activities that have attracted the most attention, garnering both praise and criticism.

In addition to music, Nugent has been involved in politics, hosting a top-rated morning radio show in Detroit. He has issued instructional videotapes (as well as the Ted Nugent Spirit of the Wild PBS video series, which raised more than $3,000,000 for PBS affiliates nationwide.), has been appointed to the board of directors of the National Rifle Association, and has written columns regularly for several magazines. He is well known as an outspoken advocate for hunting rights and as a conservationist.

But few people know that the “Motor City Madman” is also a lifelong bird watcher, as BWD editor Bill Thompson, III, had an opportunity to find out at the 2007 Shot Show (Shooting, Hunting, Outdoor Trade Show and Conference). As an avid hunter and a birder, Nugent has his own intimate perspective on the avian world-one that, with a little urging from BWD publisher Andy Thompson, he gives readers a rare glimpse of in The Motor City Birdman.

The Motor City Birdman

By Ted Nugent

I slithered along the forests floor like a snake. At the age of eight, and skinny, I probably was no more disruptive to the wild woods than the garter snakes that shared this sacred ground. Catlike and nearly motionless, I inched ever closer to the circle of northern bobwhite in front of me, nestled in the snagglethorn tangle of a huge clump of multiflora rose on the edge of the mighty Rouge River. The little birds were slightly quivering, sprung tight and ready to explode into a dizzying whir if this strange, creeping predator got any closer. My slingshot was held in front of me, with a carefully chosen, beautifully rounded pebble in its deadly pouch. Would stalking do more than educate me about this fascinating game bird this time? Was I actually going to get a shot at one of these delicious little featherbombs? The intensity of the standoff was electric, and I doubted I could take it much longer.

A bright male red-winged blackbird sang to my right as it bobbed on a bending cattail, and a stunning male cardinal landed in the bushes just a couple of feet to my left. I heard the funny ink ink calls of a nuthatch as it hopped up a small oak tree nearby, and now I could see the distinctive black masks of the cock quail just in front of my face. I was in heaven. My aim was true and I shot my very first game bird that morning in the wilds of Skunk Hollow, within a few miles of the Detroit city limits.

The meal my father guided me through after that first kill is a powerful memory of my adventurous youth, but scrumptious roast quail was not the only bird I digested that fall day, because my mind was like a sponge, gobbling up every sight, sound, flutter, and invigorating encounter with each indigenous avian creature. I have always been spellbound by wildlife, and birds play a huge role in my quality of life to this very day, 50-plus years later.

My little suburban rivercourse was home not only to those bobwhites, red-winged blackbirds, nuthatches, and cardinals, but also to juncos, chickadees, song and house sparrows, thrushes, house wrens, downy woodpeckers, yellow-bellied sapsuckers, flickers, blue jays, ring-necked pheasants, crows, starlings, grackles, cowbirds, catbirds, mourning doves, larks, tufted titmice, warblers, finches, cedar waxwings, Baltimore orioles, hummingbirds, screech- and barn owls, the occasional snowy owl and great horned owl, Cooper’s, red-tailed, and red-shouldered hawks, kestrels, kites, rock pigeons, cranes, herons, snipe, woodcock, ruffed grouse, gallinules, killdeer, nighthawks, mallards, wood ducks, geese, and (I must admit) a few species that I never did definitively identify. But how I tried!

Today, as a gung-ho hunter, I turn my radar up to maximum every day so that I don't miss a single bird, whether afield or downtown. I continue to be fascinated by birdsong and bird activity all around me.

Having the blessing of connecting with children through various youth charities and programs that I am involved with, plus the natural attraction we have experienced through our Ted Nugent Spirit of the Wild TV shows, I find that with a little bit of direction, every child I spend time with displays a natural interest in wildlife, and because various bird species abound, they provide a ubiquitous and dynamic carrot to get kids interested in pragmatic environmentalism. Where birds flourish, air, soil, and water quality benefit. Kids understand that right away.

Celebrating my 59th hunting season also means I am celebrating a long life of birding. When you hunt with a bow and arrow as much as I do, you tend to notice everything around you, and birds entertain me now more than ever. All across North America and southern Africa, my family thrills at every bird that shares our space. I feel a kinship with all naturalists and do all I can to inspire people to get to know the wild a little bit better. Once a deeper appreciation of the natural world takes hold (and it will) the call to stewardship is heard more clearly and the necessity of being an asset to our good mother earth resonates profoundly.

Some birds may taste more delicious than others, but each and every encounter with each and every bird cleanses the soul, and I for one cannot get enough of them.

Ted Nugent's books are available at tednugent.com or at 800-343-4868.