And the continuing saga continues.... wait, the continuing saga continues? That really sounds stupid!
The Slide
Remember that I'm still hunting.
That is, hunting while moving, but moving so slowly that it's like I'm
standing still. It takes a very long time to cover a short distance,
but it's a prime way to move in on game. At the same time, it's also a
good way to make the deer move at a slow pace towards where my Dad and
brother were sitting on a tree stand. We're
trying to get a deer in so my 87 year old Dad can get a deer with his
bow, something that he has yet to achieve in his many years.
While
trying to move slowly through the thickets around an old saw mill, I
came to a place that I've been many, many times in the past. I
remember this shale rock slide so well, with the mountain-goat-like
deer trail cutting around a very precarious drop that I've never tried
to navigate. I'm not the brave, nor that foolhardy! I walked over to
a huge rock that juts out over the slide so that I can survey the flat
area below it. Two deer meander slowly below me and towards the stand
where my partners sit. My inclinometer says that it's only a 59° angle
to the bottom that is 28' below. It would be an easy shot for my bow,
but it would be hours to drag even a small deer out of that area due to
having to take the deer down the long hill through thick undergrowth to the valley below. The
slide would keep me from bringing the deer up to my level, unless I
wanted to make a long walk back to camp to get a hoist and rope...and I
didn't. Plus, the main objective in this place was to move those deer
ever slowly, un-alarmed towards my Dad.
As they moved out of
sight in the undergrowth, I felt a small stir. After several years of
coming to this friendly place and standing in this exact spot, I was
betrayed like a lover whose love has gone to someone else. The rock I
was standing on decided to give away a piece of itself about the size
where both my boots were grounded. As it began it's plummet to the
bottom, my rear end made contact with the remaining rock before the
rest of me plummeted to the bottom with it. The ride was quick, rocky
nonetheless, and adrenaline filled. I shot a little arrow prayer
towards the heavens while I tried to keep my arms and legs inside the
ride at all times.
When
the dust cleared, I was laying at the
bottom holding my bow high in the air as if it were a priceless
heirloom. My trusty fanny pack had again cushioned some of the ride,
but now I was starting to cough from the dust. More shale was
following, but none large enough to put too big a dent in me. I laid
my bow across my
lap, after sitting up of course, and pulled out my canteen to rinse
some of the dirt out of my mouth and eyes. Another whispered prayer of
thanks that I had again survived the evil rocks in an area that was
about 300 yards from the previous day's excursion.
I looked to
my right and saw the slowly raised flags of the whitetails as they
walked away from me. I'm sure they had a smile on their faces and
probably couldn't wait to tell there friends about the silly human
sliding down the shale rock slide. I slowly got to my feet, made sure
that it was solid ground, wiped and dusted myself off, and began the
trek through the thicket that would two hours later bring my to the location
of my Dad and brother.
Another story to tell Dad? No, why
bother him and make him worry? Dad did see several deer that day. He
said they all seemed happy.
That was Day 2 of the hunting escapades.
Three Bucks
I've seen 3 different bucks in the area where I'm hunting. One is a nice 6 pointer (Eastern count). Then there's the little forkhorn and the spike. I've seen the 6 pointer twice now in the same spot. Will the third time be a charm?
The FogWalker goes to eat a late supper....and ponder the wonders of the previous week...
Month: November 2007
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I Survived!
I've had one week at my camping and hunting excursion and I have survived. There was a couple of times that I didn't know what would happen, but I'm here to write about it and that means it went well (?)! I camped out in the pines under the stars and a very bright moon on most of the nights. One night was so unseasonably warm that I didn't even turn on my Mr. Heater Portable Buddy nor my Mr. Heater Big Buddy! They're both on the same page of those search results. When the night temps hit less than 29°F, then I had my little Buddy on with the lowest setting. I also have a sleeping bag with a -10°F rating and that helps (never had it zipped up all the way).
The Ditch
I came upon a ditch, about 15' deep and about 8' wide, that I didn't even know existed. It was running parallel with a powerline right-of-way. I was still hunting (hunting where you move so slow that it's like standing still) and I was supposed to be at the powerline around dark. The woods were deep, the underbrush thick, and the darkness had started to set in even before the sun had completely set for the evening. Then I found the ditch. I also found a deer trail going down into the precipice that looked like Mountain Goats had been there. The Mountain Goat in me said that I could go down one side and up the other.
I carefully made it to the bottom of this ditch that was lined with large rocks and a small trickle of water running around them. I was pretty proud of my accomplishment. I looked up and remembered the years that I used to jump an easy 8' with a running jump. I could jump almost 7' without a run. I'm not really up on jumping now, especially when jumping over a ditch lined with large rocks.
The climb up the other side was a little harder than the climb down. It wasn't any steeper, but gravity was not aiding me on the way up. I stopped on the deer trail where I could reach out about a foot and touch the level ground. If you like figuring angles, then my feet are touching the ground, I'm standing straight up with my hands out from my shoulders about 5' from my feet, and my shoulders were a little over 1' from the edge. If you can't or don't want to figure, that is steep. I think it was a 77° angle on my inclinometer on the other side.
Then my foot hold gave away. I tossed my bow onto the leaves on the top as I toppled over backwards like the tower of Babel. I grabbed for a small tree, leaving 4 of my 5 fingernails embedded in the tree as they didn't hold. My fanny pack softened that blow, slightly, but I started the descent faster than a rolling stone, and I was gathering no moss. After about a 10' slide completely upside down with my head coming closer to the rocks, my left leg caught a 3" sapling in the bend of my knee. I stopped abruptly, then looked down at the rocks that were about 12" from my head. I didn't have to turn my head to look down because I was literally hanging upside down by my leg.
While in this upside down position, I thanked God for that small sapling that saved my head from busting some rocks, or maybe it would have been the other way. The next prayer was asking how I get out of this position. A short struggle, which seemed like hours, and I had righted myself and climbed back up to the edge. This time I didn't admire the edge but climbed out of the ditch and picked up my bow.
There were 2 deer standing on the other side of the powerline. I think they were laughing at the silly human that thought he was part Mountain Goat. Then they flagged me and ran in the woods. I had to laugh, too. Until I really realized that even though I was only about 200 yards from my brother and my Dad, they would have had a hard time finding me if I had hit the bottom. I'm sure it wouldn't have been that night. So, another whispered prayer of thankfulness.
It was time to wipe off the sweat, leaves, humus, and head for my hunting partners. What a story to tell them, or should I? I did, but made it sound less hazardous since my Dad can be worrisome.
That was Day 1 of the hunting escapades.
Successful Hunting
Yes, I saw 11 deer that day, but I didn't shoot any. Most were too far away, some were just too little, and two were making jokes at me. My measure of success does not mean that I have to KILL something. To me, success is being able to be out in the wilds, and in this case, survive! I enjoyed the day; that is success!
And more escapades to follow!
The FogWalker takes his oldest son out to eat at a Mexican restaurant....the first really cooked meal in a week....and it's the son's birthday...
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