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Nancy Jo Adams & Richard Holt Life in Camo Media

Nancy Jo Adams. I grew up an avid competitive equestrian spending every possible moment in the outdoors–usually well into the evening. I didn’t opt for the easy road–I didn’t have a trainer or hired hands to clean my stalls, train and groom my horses. I did the work myself; all of it, the good, the bad and the ugly. I rode and trained my own horses. I was as haggard as my horses were when I shut the barn light every evening headed for the shower. With owning athlete horses came hardships, ups and downs, injuries and even the death of some. Leaving you to deal with broken dreams and empty stalls. Nancy Jo Adams

instilled a strong belief of perseverance in me

The responsibility and dedication that came with competitively showing horses instilled a strong belief of perseverance in me. It was this perseverance that got me through a divorce when I turned 30, having to sell all my horses and disposing of the only thing that I knew for 20 years, picking up the pieces in a city and state where I had no relatives or friends that were not associated with horse shows, enrolling in college for the first time in my life at the age of 31, three college degrees completed by Spring 2006; only to be hit with the death of my Father in July of 2006. Nancy Jo Adams

I was left with nothing to do with my idle time

At that point, I was left with nothing to do with my idle time. It was this boring lull that led me to answer “yes” to a question that virtually changed my life in a matter of minutes. It was around 3:00 p.m. December 26, 2006 and I was sitting at home on the couch in my den when my husband, Richard, came in and asked me if I wanted to go sit with him in a shooting house on a green field. I looked at him, just about to say no when he said, “we won’t be out there but a couple of hours.” I figured, “What the heck? I am not going to do anything but sit on this couch until time to cook supper anyways. Maybe now I won’t have to cook, we will go into town and eat.” Nancy Jo Adams

That day is one that I will remember for the rest of my life…

So I donned a pair of hand-me-down hunting pants, a spare camouflage jacket my husband had, a green Henley that I found in the closet, a fleece face mask, gloves too big for me and my Timberland hiking boots; I was a sight, no doubt. We were on our way to the shooting house and I didn’t have a clue what to expect. That day is one that I will remember for the rest of my life…for that day is what started this passion I now possess that keeps me challenging myself, researching, and writing about anything and everything hunting related. That day is the first time I ever shot a rifle, harvesting my first buck; a nice, 8-point whitetail.

For this I have my husband, Richard, to thank for his unselfishness of allowing me to get a glimpse of his favorite sport.

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