Tuesday, December 17, 2013


   This morning I drove home from WSSP at about 9:00 am in a snowstorm. I didn't even bring my gun out there. Dragging a bloody doe across the snowy lawn would not have gone over too big. I decided to hunt close enough to my house to either drag a deer to the road or house or get Pigpen to help again. Out at WSSP there would be no help forthcoming from my womenfolk. Ever drag a dead deer through a foot of fresh snow? It's not fun. On an incline it's near impossible. I'm old school- florescent orange chest drag and aspirin at night. Aside from some Gilkey and Mupp tractor recoveries over the years, this was the first year where machinery played a part. First came the golf cart adventure with Savage, on the Majestic flat and then Pigpen threading the needle with an ATV in the snow, in order to get the big one out of the top. I'm incredibly appreciative to all involved. But back to my day.
  I walked down the unplowed road in the driving snow about 10:00 am. Right above where the Hasidic truck container used to sit, just before Ray Gilkey's old spring house, I stepped into the woods. I figured the only chance i had of seeing deer was try to sneak into areas where I thought they could be browsing, and get a shot. This used to be a hot spot in snow in years past. But on this morning there was nothing. The wind was out of the east, bad for my trudge down the hill. My plan was to get to the ridge above the bridge and hunt the rocks and laurels, then hunt into the wind on the way back. Backtracking to the road, I crossed the spot where Levi used to have his trailer and scoped the swamp. There was a lot of white. The beavers had flooded it and now it was frozen solid. No deer. I had to take a shit. Yesterday i had squatted in the woods in the 10 degrees and the snow drifts and crapped on my boot. I didn't want to repeat that. Maybe GNJohn's door was open?
     Shout out to GNJohn in Florida. The house is fine. Thanks for the use of the facilities. Dr. LC was coming down the driveway before I even got out the door. I think he heard me flush. Your property is very safe. I walked down the road to the cable by the bridge. Just getting up that trail was major and it was snowing harder. I turned north along the rocks where GNJ cut in that track. There's a nice flat with the big overhanging rocks to the right. All of the sudden something exploded out from under one of those rocks. It was a little doe that had tucked herself out of the weather. She spun and headed up the hill. I slowed down and looked around. Mommy had to be close by. I saw nothing, so continued. I didn't go 50 yards before the snow erupted in front of me. That doe had been bedded behind a tree. She stopped just over a rise. I kneeled in the snow and put the gun up. All I had was ass. Then she turned back and stared at me. She was a beautiful big Sullivan County doe. I had a neck shot. I flipped up the scope cover and tried to settle the crosshairs on that white throat. I thumbed the hammer back. And for the life of me, I couldn't get steady. I hoped her curiosity would get the better of her and she would take a step towards me. But she didn't. Down the hill she went, out of sight in the rocks and laurels. That would be the last deer I'd see for the season.
   I sat out the brunt of the storm in the hut and then hunted my way back up the hill. I was home a half hour before dark. I didn't even see a squirrel in the storm. 2013 deer season is over. It's back to reality. The kerosene heater stopped working yesterday and tonight the stove pipe started to smoke inside the house. It's freezing in here and smells...... well like a house full of smoke. My eyes burn. I drank my last beer and when I tried to toss Nicole out of the house she spun around and ran between my legs, causing me to slip on the snow and crash to the floor. Tomorrow I'll butcher up that buck, hoping I don't cut my finger off, and staying very far away from those 11 inch tines. Two bucks and a doe is the score. I guess I have to go back to work. Turkey season's right around the corner.    


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