A Hunting We Will Go

Hey there. I hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving and all.

This post is just an attempt to get one more post in before we start on that speedy slope to the end of the year.

Tomorrow is December.

Can you believe it?


Anyway...


So, as most of you with ties to PA know, this past Monday we observed that most holy of holidays - The First Day of Deer Season. Well, the first day you can shoot a deer with a rifle as opposed to an arrow or the bumper of your work car.

I kind of left it up to the last minute to finally decide that, yes, I suppose I'll give it another go. Especially since it was shaping up to be an unusually balmy November day. And I'm all about warm weather hunting because it's not cold. Sure you sweat a little bit more and the deer can smell you from a mile away but, really, a good hunter can get past that. A pansy hunter can't get past 10 degrees. And that's what I am. A pansy hunter.

I will end the anticipation right now by telling you that, no, I did not manage to score a deer. Which is ok by me because I'm really a c'est la vie kind of hunter anyway. I guess you can say that I wasn't concerned at all about actually getting a deer considering I drove my car.

Now that I look back on it, what was I thinking? What if I did actually get a deer? I just vacuumed the inside of the car so it wasn't going to go on the back seat. And, although I keep my trunk full of all sorts of oddities, even I have limits when it comes to a fresh, bloody carcass. So I guess I would have to tie it on the trunk or the roof of the car. And I guess I wouldn't even tie it since I didn't think to bring anything like...uh...rope. I suppose I could have used the wire in my trunk that I keep for hanging real estate signs.

So there I would be, driving my car home with a fresh deer oozing blood all down the windows and doors. Kind of like Carrie. "They're all going to laugh at you!"


I guess it's a good thing that my lack of preparedness is balanced by my lack of seriousness. Or, perhaps, could one be a result of the other? Maybe.

I left shortly before dawn with plans to meet my uncle, cousin and cousin-in-law at the designated spot in the New Boston strippins (non-yonko translation = strip mines). It was a wet ride there, complete with loads of black mud. Good thing I washed the car two days before.

Pause in story - This is exactly why I rarely wash my car. Because I will wash it and vacuum it and clean the windows and get it all sparkley and such and then some emergency will come up where I have to go off-roading. It's just easier to keep a dirty car I tell ya.


So I got to the spot and parked my car. I looked around for my group and spied a Jeep on a hill. I had no clue what kind of vehicle they would be in and, what with hunters being the gun-toting types they are, I was a little hesitant to barge in on someone else's territory.

I would never have made a good wild animal. "No, no. That's ok. You can go after that herd. I don't need to eat this winter... I'll just go over here and eat some of this black dirt."

I stood outside my car and listend. Yes, it definitely sounded like my group. I started to walk toward them and my cousin-in-law met me half way. We exchanged "Good mornings" and some small talk. Then I asked "What are Uncle and Cousin doing?"

Cousin-in-law: Oh, they're both up there taking their heart medicine and stuff.


A real lethal bunch we are.


As it turns out, the only deer I saw on that outing were two running across a field waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay off in the distance. So far away that my bullet would have had to stop for directions if I had bothered to take a shot. Other than that, I saw a lot of little birds. And a chipmunk. Which didn't have a legal size rack so I couldn't shoot it.

In the afternoon I was sitting on top of a dirt bank trying desperately to stay awake.

Hunting is very exciting.

Finally I decided I better get up and walk around before I end up rolling down the hill. With a loaded gun. Always a good time.

I walked a bit until I found my uncle.

Me: See anything?
Uncle: No, you?
Me: No.... I was starting to doze off on the hill.
Uncle: I did doze off. All of a sudden I woke up and didn't know where I was. Then I saw your car and thought "I must be hunting."


And the real crazy thing is people like us are allowed to wander around with guns. Real guns. With bullets in them. You gotta love America.

I decided to pack it in around 3 o'clock and head home. About two nights previous, my hubby and I saw some deer on a lane on our property and my hubby said one looked like a decent sized buck. I figured I had about another hour to kill so I could take a walk up the lane and just sit there until sundown.

I slowly and quietly made my way up the lane - very careful not to make unnecessary noise. Watching, watching. Always scanning the woods up ahead for any sign of movement. Up towards the end of the lane I could see flourescent orange through the trees. Someone had beat me to the spot. I was curious as to who it might be but I didn't want to go any further and spoil that person's last hour of the day.

I just stood quietly where I was for a moment watching and scanning...when all of a sudden I heard crashing through the bushes behind me.

My mind raced. How many were there? Definitley more than one. Did they see me yet? Try to turn slowly in case they didn't. Hold the gun at the ready. Now...slowly...slowly...turn...look...slowly...

All the while the crashing noise is getting closer. Obviously the deer didn't see me yet. Mayby this was my chance! Maybe it was the decent sized buck! Maybe...

I turned to see...




...



four goats.




And how I managed not to shoot them is beyond me.




They all trotted up to me like "Yay! We're going for a walk! Yay!"


And I'm thinking "Well, the big one is probably legal..."

And then it dawned on me that there are other people out in the woods - people on heart medication - people who roll down banks in deep slumber - people who tie bloody carcasses to the tops of their cars - people who are disoriented - all of these people with guns! All waiting to see some sign of horns before they let loose with a barrage of bullets. And here I am in the middle of it all surrounded by FOUR GOATS WITH HORNS!

I quickly slung my gun over my shoulder and set off toward the house. When I rounded the driveway - with all four goats in a line behind me - I thought my hubby would wet his pants.

So there it is. My not-so-mighty hunter story. I guess, in the end, maybe I was meant to be more of a gatherer. Or maybe an observer. Or, perhaps, a purveyor of fine goods. Whatever. I'll give it another go once or twice before the season is over.

Weather permitting.