Send us your best whitetail stuff (and don't forget to attach pictures!)
Russell Graves - Believes whitetails shouldn't be photographed in the back of a truck with their tongue hanging out.
Location - Texas
Brian Strickland - Has 369,518 acres of land that you can hunt on. Call him at (555) 281-HUNT.
Location - Colorado
Tony Hansen - Is pretty confident Michigan will release at least 300,000 archers into the woods this fall.
Location - Michigan
Jake Fagan - He's really just here to hang out, so don't mind him.
Location - Georgia
Will Brantley - Loves hunting in a dorag because it makes him look Ramboish. Some may call it Little Man Syndrome.
Location - Tennessee
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Keeping Tabs on the Lawbreakers Pt. 2
Last weekend I was in a Hilton Hotel north of Fort Worth, Texas. When I picked up the Sunday paper, this story was on the front page. Interesting read:
Deer-smuggling case raises questions on hunting industry
BARRY SHLACHTER Star-Telegram Staff Writer
LAW ENFORCEMENT *Interstate trafficking threatens herds with bovine tuberculosis and chronic wasting disease.
Two years ago, Brian Becker drove 1,008 miles from Madelia, Minn., to the small East Texas town of Bedias, unaware that federal authorities had him under surveillance after being tipped off that his gooseneck trailer carried contraband -- trophy deer.
His smuggling operation, which reaped $300,000 from a single customer in four years, exposes a dark underside to Texas' $73 million deer-hunting industry, which has provided jobs and other economic benefits to many rural areas of the state.
On Nov. 24, Becker, 38, already on probation for smuggling deer to Oklahoma in 2005, was sentenced by a federal court in Plano to 33 months in prison.
The buyer, Robert L. Eichenour, 51, a wealthy Houston businessman and owner of a posh hunting ranch in Bedias, received an 18-month term and was ordered to pay a $50,000 fine. Both had pleaded guilty and did not dispute the charges.
"This is just the tip of the iceberg," said Mike Merida, a Fort Worth-based special agent with the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, referring to interstate deer trafficking, which he said threatens herds with bovine tuberculosis and chronic wasting disease, a devastating condition likened to mad-cow disease but spread among deer, elk and moose.
Authorities disclosed that the tip-off came from within the game industry and pinpointed Becker's destination and shipment dates. During interrogations, the Minnesotan also claimed to have been dealing with a hunting ranch in North Texas and an investigation is ongoing, they said, declining to provide further details.
"From my perspective, there's a lot of movement of black-market deer, whether it's wild deer 'laundered' into a high-fence operation or 'put and take' hunting," said Capt. Greg Williford of Texas Parks & Wildlife, who says smuggling is an open secret in the industry. "We're out to try to prove it."
When breeding bucks with the right genetics can fetch as much as $500,000 at auction, "you always have some trying to go around corners," said John Meng, marketing director of the Texas Deer Association.
Eichenour was not a member of the industry association and, therefore, not subject to the group's code of ethics, Meng said.
Others cautioned against exaggerating the scope of wildlife trafficking, noting that the Becker case was only the third in the state in recent years.
"I would think it is extremely rare with all the restrictions and everything we must follow," said Johnny Hudman, game-ranch manager at the Stasney Cook Ranch in Albany.
The latest case
Becker, who was seen napping at truck stops, was to have been arrested crossing the Oklahoma-Texas state line, but authorities missed him, as they did on an earlier run.
He was finally nabbed hours later by Merida and Texas Parks and Wildlife personnel when his pickup and gooseneck trailer fell into a ditch outside Eichenour's 2,000-acre property, a high-fenced hunting ranch called Circle E. Eichenour was arrested when he came out to accept delivery of eight "shooter" bucks, Merida said.
Out-of-state deer, whether wild or bred in captivity, are banned by Texas, which is free of chronic wasting disease.
The restriction helps heighten demand for whitetail deer with large antlers, making it profitable for traffickers like Becker to haul loads 1,000 miles.
Circle E Ranch offers hunters "luxurious" accommodations and an array of game, including exotic species ranging from addax and aoudad to wildebeest and zebra. The ranch Web site, www.circleeranch.com, carries rave endorsements by hunters from as far away as Australia and South Africa. Circle E, appraised by Grimes County at $4.2 million and located between Huntsville and Navasota, charges $250 a day lodging -- a three-day minimum for hunters-- and a fee per animal shot -- $6,500 for a zebra -- including field dressing.
But domestic whitetailed deer was a major draw. Trophy bucks with mountable racks cost hunters $2,500 to $15,000 depending on antler size.
In Texas hunting circles, a whitetail buck with antlers scoring 140 to 149 on the Boone and Crockett scale is a popular size.
Although Texas had 1,007 deer-farming facilities in 2006, more than any other state, demand for that 140-149 trophy buck is high, says Mike Lamb, a West Texas breeder.
Recreational hunters who shot such trophy deer at Circle E were charged $3,500.
Lamb, who operates Lamb Ranch in Cross Plains, doubted whether anyone in Texas could profitably breed, vaccinate and raise a 140-score buck for the hunting market even at that price.
"It would take four years and cost me $3,500 to $4,000," he said.
But Becker was offering Eichenour such trophy bucks delivered for less than $2,000, according to Eichenour's attorney and federal and state investigators.
"This was purely a crime of greed," said Shamoil Shipchandler, an assistant U.S. attorney in Plano who prosecuted the case. "And the risks they took were significant and could have had great impact. Wisconsin already has spent $30 million combating chronic wasting disease in deer."
One-time breeding operation
Eichenour's lawyer, Trent Gaither of Houston, said that much of the $300,000 had been paid as "advances" on deer shipments to help fund Becker's breeding operation in Minnesota, called Becker's Deer Crossing. Merida disputes that assertion, quoting Eichenour as saying all of the money was spent on deer he received at his hunting ranch.
Paul Anderson of the Minnesota Board of Animal Health said Becker had a certified deer farm at one time but had not operated it as a breeding facility in years.
Both defendants pleaded guilty in February, but Eichenour failed to convince U.S. District Judge Richard Schell during the trial's sentencing phase that his action didn't pose a significant risk of spreading disease to wildlife and humans. This raised the punishment level under federal guidelines, Shipchandler said.
The only expert witness was called by the prosecution. Brian Richards, who studies elk for the U.S. Geological Survey in Wisconsin, spoke of the costly efforts to contain chronic wasting disease in that state.
Anderson told the Star-Telegram that Minnesota has not found a case of chronic wasting disease in wild deer and the last confirmed diagnosis in a bred deer was five years ago. The eight deer trucked down by Becker in October 2006 and six from an earlier delivery were euthanized. Their remains, sent to Texas A&M University, tested negative for bovine tuberculosis and chronic wasting disease, Merida said.
'Old-school' Texan
Eichenour did not return calls seeking comment, but his attorney said he expressed remorse before sentencing and had made arrangements for the hunting ranch to continue operations after he reports to a minimum-security federal prison in Bastrop on Jan. 9.
His client was used to dramatic shifts in fate, having saved his family's business, Coasting Casting Service, in his early 20s after his "drinking, gambling and philandering" father had "bled the company dry," according to a statement to the court filed by Eichenour.
Coastal, a multimillion-dollar venture that employed nearly 100, rebuilt engines for the oil-service industry.
"Yes, he is an astute businessman but remember this [hunting ranch venture] was not his business, it was a hobby," said the attorney, who described Eichenour as "old school -- a 'your-word-is-your-bond' kind of guy."
When told of Becker's long criminal record, which included horse theft, Eichenour expressed shock, Gaither said.
"He was amazed and said, 'Holy s---.' He had always considered Becker a good, decent guy who talked a good game and claimed to have a full-fledged breeding facility in Minnesota," the attorney recalled.
Efforts to reach Becker were unsuccessful. A woman who answered his telephone and identified herself as a relative declined to comment.
Courtroom comments
During the sentencing phase, Schell asked Eichenour why he brought deer from out of state.
According to his attorney, Eichenour said he never understood why Texas kept its borders closed to deer.
Moreover, he did not believe that chronic wasting disease was a real threat since elk and other species susceptible to the ailment could be transported here.
In a March 14 letter released by his attorney, Eichenour said the deer he bought from out of state were better quality and 10 to 25 percent cheaper than comparable Texas bucks he could buy to stock for his hunting clients.
"Whatever money I saved through my improper actions cannot nearly make up for the embarrassment, lost sleep and anxiety I've felt for the last two years," he wrote. "I have lost the privilege of hunting, which I absolutely love."
Admitting he knew he was breaking Texas regulations, Eichenour said he did not realize he also had violated the Lacey Act, a federal law that he had believed dealt only with endangered species.
"The bottom line is that I allowed myself to be swayed into believing that the closing of the Texas border to whitetail deer was politically motivated by the mega-breeders and not because of any real health threat," he wrote.
Mixed reaction
Bedias Mayor Mackie Bobo said Eichenour was not active in the community. Yet much sympathy has been expressed in Grimes County, where Circle E is located, with some officials saying the punishment was unduly harsh or, at the very least, reflecting misplaced priorities.
"We see murderers and rapists given probation, but bring a whitetail deer to Texas, and you do federal time," Constable Dale Schaper said.
Grimes County Judge Gene Stapleton said the 18-month sentence "totally ruins [Eichenour's] life. If you are going to ruin someone's life, ruin a drug dealer's life."
But Eichenour will not win any popularity contests among the state's deer breeders.
"I am outraged," said Lamb, the West Texas whitetail rancher. "I've spent a lot of money proving my deer are tested and healthy. An outbreak from smuggled deer would totally wipe me out. Nothing is worth the risk, and to have people exposing the wildlife population to make a few thousand is just ridiculous.
"Am I surprised? Actually I am. I would believe someone might move deer from Arkansas, Louisiana or Alabama. But deer brought down from up there have a very poor survival rate. If they were bringing them down to hunt them instantly, how close to 'canned' hunting can you get?"
News researcher Cathy Belcher contributed to this report.
BARRY SHLACHTER, 817-390-7718
(C) The Star-Telegram 2008
Deer-smuggling case raises questions on hunting industry
BARRY SHLACHTER Star-Telegram Staff Writer
LAW ENFORCEMENT *Interstate trafficking threatens herds with bovine tuberculosis and chronic wasting disease.
Two years ago, Brian Becker drove 1,008 miles from Madelia, Minn., to the small East Texas town of Bedias, unaware that federal authorities had him under surveillance after being tipped off that his gooseneck trailer carried contraband -- trophy deer.
His smuggling operation, which reaped $300,000 from a single customer in four years, exposes a dark underside to Texas' $73 million deer-hunting industry, which has provided jobs and other economic benefits to many rural areas of the state.
On Nov. 24, Becker, 38, already on probation for smuggling deer to Oklahoma in 2005, was sentenced by a federal court in Plano to 33 months in prison.
The buyer, Robert L. Eichenour, 51, a wealthy Houston businessman and owner of a posh hunting ranch in Bedias, received an 18-month term and was ordered to pay a $50,000 fine. Both had pleaded guilty and did not dispute the charges.
"This is just the tip of the iceberg," said Mike Merida, a Fort Worth-based special agent with the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, referring to interstate deer trafficking, which he said threatens herds with bovine tuberculosis and chronic wasting disease, a devastating condition likened to mad-cow disease but spread among deer, elk and moose.
Authorities disclosed that the tip-off came from within the game industry and pinpointed Becker's destination and shipment dates. During interrogations, the Minnesotan also claimed to have been dealing with a hunting ranch in North Texas and an investigation is ongoing, they said, declining to provide further details.
"From my perspective, there's a lot of movement of black-market deer, whether it's wild deer 'laundered' into a high-fence operation or 'put and take' hunting," said Capt. Greg Williford of Texas Parks & Wildlife, who says smuggling is an open secret in the industry. "We're out to try to prove it."
When breeding bucks with the right genetics can fetch as much as $500,000 at auction, "you always have some trying to go around corners," said John Meng, marketing director of the Texas Deer Association.
Eichenour was not a member of the industry association and, therefore, not subject to the group's code of ethics, Meng said.
Others cautioned against exaggerating the scope of wildlife trafficking, noting that the Becker case was only the third in the state in recent years.
"I would think it is extremely rare with all the restrictions and everything we must follow," said Johnny Hudman, game-ranch manager at the Stasney Cook Ranch in Albany.
The latest case
Becker, who was seen napping at truck stops, was to have been arrested crossing the Oklahoma-Texas state line, but authorities missed him, as they did on an earlier run.
He was finally nabbed hours later by Merida and Texas Parks and Wildlife personnel when his pickup and gooseneck trailer fell into a ditch outside Eichenour's 2,000-acre property, a high-fenced hunting ranch called Circle E. Eichenour was arrested when he came out to accept delivery of eight "shooter" bucks, Merida said.
Out-of-state deer, whether wild or bred in captivity, are banned by Texas, which is free of chronic wasting disease.
The restriction helps heighten demand for whitetail deer with large antlers, making it profitable for traffickers like Becker to haul loads 1,000 miles.
Circle E Ranch offers hunters "luxurious" accommodations and an array of game, including exotic species ranging from addax and aoudad to wildebeest and zebra. The ranch Web site, www.circleeranch.com, carries rave endorsements by hunters from as far away as Australia and South Africa. Circle E, appraised by Grimes County at $4.2 million and located between Huntsville and Navasota, charges $250 a day lodging -- a three-day minimum for hunters-- and a fee per animal shot -- $6,500 for a zebra -- including field dressing.
But domestic whitetailed deer was a major draw. Trophy bucks with mountable racks cost hunters $2,500 to $15,000 depending on antler size.
In Texas hunting circles, a whitetail buck with antlers scoring 140 to 149 on the Boone and Crockett scale is a popular size.
Although Texas had 1,007 deer-farming facilities in 2006, more than any other state, demand for that 140-149 trophy buck is high, says Mike Lamb, a West Texas breeder.
Recreational hunters who shot such trophy deer at Circle E were charged $3,500.
Lamb, who operates Lamb Ranch in Cross Plains, doubted whether anyone in Texas could profitably breed, vaccinate and raise a 140-score buck for the hunting market even at that price.
"It would take four years and cost me $3,500 to $4,000," he said.
But Becker was offering Eichenour such trophy bucks delivered for less than $2,000, according to Eichenour's attorney and federal and state investigators.
"This was purely a crime of greed," said Shamoil Shipchandler, an assistant U.S. attorney in Plano who prosecuted the case. "And the risks they took were significant and could have had great impact. Wisconsin already has spent $30 million combating chronic wasting disease in deer."
One-time breeding operation
Eichenour's lawyer, Trent Gaither of Houston, said that much of the $300,000 had been paid as "advances" on deer shipments to help fund Becker's breeding operation in Minnesota, called Becker's Deer Crossing. Merida disputes that assertion, quoting Eichenour as saying all of the money was spent on deer he received at his hunting ranch.
Paul Anderson of the Minnesota Board of Animal Health said Becker had a certified deer farm at one time but had not operated it as a breeding facility in years.
Both defendants pleaded guilty in February, but Eichenour failed to convince U.S. District Judge Richard Schell during the trial's sentencing phase that his action didn't pose a significant risk of spreading disease to wildlife and humans. This raised the punishment level under federal guidelines, Shipchandler said.
The only expert witness was called by the prosecution. Brian Richards, who studies elk for the U.S. Geological Survey in Wisconsin, spoke of the costly efforts to contain chronic wasting disease in that state.
Anderson told the Star-Telegram that Minnesota has not found a case of chronic wasting disease in wild deer and the last confirmed diagnosis in a bred deer was five years ago. The eight deer trucked down by Becker in October 2006 and six from an earlier delivery were euthanized. Their remains, sent to Texas A&M University, tested negative for bovine tuberculosis and chronic wasting disease, Merida said.
'Old-school' Texan
Eichenour did not return calls seeking comment, but his attorney said he expressed remorse before sentencing and had made arrangements for the hunting ranch to continue operations after he reports to a minimum-security federal prison in Bastrop on Jan. 9.
His client was used to dramatic shifts in fate, having saved his family's business, Coasting Casting Service, in his early 20s after his "drinking, gambling and philandering" father had "bled the company dry," according to a statement to the court filed by Eichenour.
Coastal, a multimillion-dollar venture that employed nearly 100, rebuilt engines for the oil-service industry.
"Yes, he is an astute businessman but remember this [hunting ranch venture] was not his business, it was a hobby," said the attorney, who described Eichenour as "old school -- a 'your-word-is-your-bond' kind of guy."
When told of Becker's long criminal record, which included horse theft, Eichenour expressed shock, Gaither said.
"He was amazed and said, 'Holy s---.' He had always considered Becker a good, decent guy who talked a good game and claimed to have a full-fledged breeding facility in Minnesota," the attorney recalled.
Efforts to reach Becker were unsuccessful. A woman who answered his telephone and identified herself as a relative declined to comment.
Courtroom comments
During the sentencing phase, Schell asked Eichenour why he brought deer from out of state.
According to his attorney, Eichenour said he never understood why Texas kept its borders closed to deer.
Moreover, he did not believe that chronic wasting disease was a real threat since elk and other species susceptible to the ailment could be transported here.
In a March 14 letter released by his attorney, Eichenour said the deer he bought from out of state were better quality and 10 to 25 percent cheaper than comparable Texas bucks he could buy to stock for his hunting clients.
"Whatever money I saved through my improper actions cannot nearly make up for the embarrassment, lost sleep and anxiety I've felt for the last two years," he wrote. "I have lost the privilege of hunting, which I absolutely love."
Admitting he knew he was breaking Texas regulations, Eichenour said he did not realize he also had violated the Lacey Act, a federal law that he had believed dealt only with endangered species.
"The bottom line is that I allowed myself to be swayed into believing that the closing of the Texas border to whitetail deer was politically motivated by the mega-breeders and not because of any real health threat," he wrote.
Mixed reaction
Bedias Mayor Mackie Bobo said Eichenour was not active in the community. Yet much sympathy has been expressed in Grimes County, where Circle E is located, with some officials saying the punishment was unduly harsh or, at the very least, reflecting misplaced priorities.
"We see murderers and rapists given probation, but bring a whitetail deer to Texas, and you do federal time," Constable Dale Schaper said.
Grimes County Judge Gene Stapleton said the 18-month sentence "totally ruins [Eichenour's] life. If you are going to ruin someone's life, ruin a drug dealer's life."
But Eichenour will not win any popularity contests among the state's deer breeders.
"I am outraged," said Lamb, the West Texas whitetail rancher. "I've spent a lot of money proving my deer are tested and healthy. An outbreak from smuggled deer would totally wipe me out. Nothing is worth the risk, and to have people exposing the wildlife population to make a few thousand is just ridiculous.
"Am I surprised? Actually I am. I would believe someone might move deer from Arkansas, Louisiana or Alabama. But deer brought down from up there have a very poor survival rate. If they were bringing them down to hunt them instantly, how close to 'canned' hunting can you get?"
News researcher Cathy Belcher contributed to this report.
BARRY SHLACHTER, 817-390-7718
(C) The Star-Telegram 2008
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