THE POT HUNTER

  My old man always used that term as a pejorative. I don't.  Up at 5:30 am. Out the door at 6:30. Walk down the hill (because of snow). Climb 20' up into stand and strap in by 7:15. Sit until 10:00. See nothing. Walk home through the woods, struggling up the hill in the crusted snow. Call Shewho at 10:45 to let her know I'm out of the tree and home safe from the morning hunt. Reheat coffee. Snuggle Cheeky. Plan the afternoon. 

    Now that I've stopped hunting horns and am trying to put meat on the table, all deer are scarce. The recent snow storms and hard freeze has made still hunting impossible and the slog in and out of stands has become too much like work. We blew off our traditional two days of deer drives with Bird, Savage and UB because of crusty snow and flu-like symptoms amongst the hunters. Bird figured out that our median age is 69.5 years. Legs, heart rate, eye sight, etc. all are issues. Savage and I have two good eyes between us. UB has hunted with one arm since he was a kid and Bird is recovering from pneumonia, This gang of OGs has to be careful. We are in it for the long haul, however long that is.

    I haven't seen a deer since I stumbled upon the doe I shot. Setting up the butcher shop on my porch, I seem to have misplaced my favorite blue butcher knife. Along with forgetting the names of famous actors, losing shit now seems to be plaguing me. "It will turn up." everybody says. I've torn my house apart looking for that knife. It's BRIGHT BLUE for Christsake! Finally I gave up looking, skinned out the deer and cut up the backstrap. It'll turn up? I'm not so sure. 

   Even though I haven't seen a deer, yesterday I had a golden eagle swoop down in front of my truck and lead me down the road before he landed in a big oak and gave me a good look. I've only seen one golden eagle in my entire life, years ago down along the Neversink. What a creature! Then last night while searching for something to watch on TV I stumbled across a documentary on the eagle hunters of Kyrgzstan. These old timers hunt with golden eagles from horseback. Tough as we are here in the Catskills, we got nothing on these cats. One day left before Xmas break in muzzleloader season. I may take the afternoon off to watch the final Jan. 6 hearing. We'll see. Stay tuned.