The past couple of mornings I've slept in. I'm getting a cold. My muscles are achy and stiff from so much walking up and down ridges. And I'm doing all I can to keep my enthusiasm up, for at least killing, gutting and dragging a doe out of the woods. Savage assures me that the second rut kicked in yesterday and the next couple of days are the best chance for seeing bucks. Do I really care?
I've been hunting deer since the balmy days of Oct. 15., a far cry from the frozen tundra that now spreads out before me. I shot a doe with the bow early in the season and haven't taken a shot since then. Morning after morning I check my traps and walk home empty handed. The frozen chickens, legs sticking obscenely through the snow, seem to mock me. What am I doing wrong? The snow is so crusty the deer scatter long before they are in sight. Yesterday I hunted White Sulfur Springs in the freezing drizzle and saw nothing but a lone doe on somebody's front lawn. My bank account is dwindling, as i miss day after day of work. If it wasn't for Al Blanchard GNJohn 's job would be no more than a hole in the field. What am I doing?
But then I remember. Hunting season is no more than a microcosm of life itself. As it starts to wind down, self-doubt, regret, second guessing increases. If only....... Unlike life, you DO know when it will end- Dec. 18. I can do it. I know I can. One last chance for meat in the freezer and just maybe horns. Then it's back to work, the holidays, and a long, long, long stretch of cold, snow, and coyote hunting. How many days until turkey season?