Tick Tock
Yes, we
are winding down. One more year is just about in the books. Winter is bearing
down. Harvest season is nearly over. Venison is all that is left. The holiday
season is upon us. I do not get too excited about Thanksgiving. It is always Thanksgiving;
here.
I am
sorry; but when I think about deer hunting the first thing that pops into my
mind is cold. Boring and cold may describe it better. I have spent too many
hours staring at a desolate hillside; hoping to just see some sign of life. Bleak
and desolate seems to be the norm. A lone woodpecker can be the excitement of
the day. Stare at your feet for a while; pull the wool up over your face for a
while. Stare, stare, and stare. Hope for a glimpse of brown or white. Stare
some more, doze off, wake up and stare. Shiver a little, eat something frozen
from your backpack, and drink a little ice crystal water and stare.
You hear
a few shots in the distance; nothing very close. Maybe they will stir something
up. Probably not. Cold; will the sun ever reach this side of the hill? Your
mind wanders and you stare some more. Silence, nothing is stirring not even a
shrew. A goshawk lights in a tree; it stares. Nothing here. It flies away;
headed towards the sun. Finally; it is late morning and sunlight reaches you.
It feels so good, the shivers go away. You know in your rational mind that the
temperature has only risen 2 degrees. You don’t care; there is light. Something
rustles in the leaves; a vole. Birds begin to tweet, Squirrels begin to stir.
There is life.
You hear
something moving up the hollow. Ten minutes of eternity elapse before you can
see what it is. Three gobblers glisten in the sunbeams as they slowly feed up
the hill. They disappear from sight. A stick breaks and you are on high alert;
then you see orange on the next ridge over. Two hunters are moving towards the
top. You know what will happen; soon. The orange dots disappear over the
ridgeline. You have been there before. Tick-Tock The anticipation level rises.
A speck
of brown trots around the hillside; bad angle and you can see that it is a
spike. You hold your ground and stare. The spike slows down and begins to feed
in some grapes a hundred yards away. You wait. You know what will happen, soon.
That comes from experience. High Noon, soon. Here they come, straight towards
the saddle you have been standing in for the past 5 hours. Eight; no nine. Two
decent bucks are amongst them. Two hundred yards, one-fifty, one hundred; they
stop when they hit the low gap. Fifty yards; bang, It is over.
Field
dress and drag straight down the ridge. Back the truck up into the ditch and
drag the deer right into the truck bed. Experience once again. Drink your other
quart of water that you left in the truck, eat your bag of almonds that you
forgot you had. Happy ride home. Tick tock. It is coming soon.
This is my article for the November 2015 issue of Two-Lane Livin
(c) High Virginia Outdoors Photos (c) High Virginia Images All Rights Reserved
