Sorry, it has taken so long to post. I've been too busy working on the old Airstream, getting her ready for more trips into the outdoors. That's another story, I'll post later. For now let tell about the last hunt at Red River WMA.
My two companions, Bryan and Mike accompanied me to a spot of woods I had not hunted in for at least two years. A place, where I had stared certain death in the face. The message reflected from the slitted eyes of an angered six-foot long, coiled, timber rattlesnake was undeniable and scared me spitless. My son David had been with me on that trip and had literally saved my life, but that is a story for the book.
On our hike deep into the wooded area, the warm evening caused our bodies to break out into a sweat, our shirts became drenched. I warned Bryan and Mike to keep a sharp eye out for the snakes and to listen for an angry buzzing sound indicating a rattling tail. They did and thank God we didn't have any chance encounters with the reptiles. But we were hunting until dark and still had to hike back out. A thought, I didn't want to dwell on.
We happened upon an active area where a large buck had been busy rubbing trees raw and pawing the earth. Bryan climbed up a nearby tree while Mike and I continued onward to a slew (shallow waterway), deeper into the woods. The wind direction shifted and began to blow hard from the north, trumpeting the new arrival of a cold front.
Mike and I arrived at the slew and discovered it to be dry. He easily crossed to the other side and found a good tree to climb. I left him there and followed the slew to the edge of a harvested agriculture field, covered with the rich-green shoots of new and tender grass, a deer magnet, if I've ever seen one.
I found a tree to climb near the edge of the field. I climbed high and sat with ever increasing north wind hitting me in the face and carrying my scent out of the woods, into the vacant field. The temperature rapidly dropped as the cold front pressed closer. My sweat drenched shirt began making feel as if I were sitting in an ice box. There was very little undergrowth growing under the canopies of the larger trees surrounding me, providing an almost uninterrupted view to the edge of a massive briar thicket. The dense border surrounded me in a semi-circular pattern and about a hundred yards distant.
I was getting colder by the minute, the wind was blowing so hard by now, I could hear it whistling through the bare limbs of the naked trees, but I felt good. I knew I was in the right place with the right conditions, my chances of seeing a good quality deer was very good.
Darkness was about two and a half hours away. I passed the first few minutes pondering my trip home. The next day would be the last of the hunting season for me. I was still on vacation and nothing was there to prevent from staying in the woods for the last day.
That is, nothing but myself. I missed Nancy and the boys. My heart had left me earlier in the day and had beaten the rest of my body back home, to Westlake. The only reason I was still hanging around was my commitment to my friends, whom I treasure. I took the time to review my time in the management area and was pleased with the overall trip. The rain during the first days was definately a challenge to handle, but with Noah and his family present conquering the challenges and catching fish, I wouldn't have it any other way. Troy's good company and meals were absolutely great. I had another treat when my friend Mac had come by, from his camp located on beer belly boulevard, to visit a few times. Now having some of the members of my old crew from Westlake present, doing their part in creating the new memories, was icing on the cake. As for as hunting goes, you really couldn't ask for anything better. But even so, I was ready to return to the arms of my loving and sometimes rowdy family.
My eyes continued to scan the edge of the thicket while I made my mind up nothing could keep me in the woods for the last day, away from home. The wind was creating a lot of background noise and chilling my body through the sweat soaked shirt. Thoughts continued to wander, parading through my mind. Why, I'd even be able to take a long and hot shower upon my return. Now, that would be a luxury, expecially since, I had lost the water pump in the old silver bullet three days ago. I'm glad I wasn't near the general public in my present smelly condition. I became determined with the next thought to rehabilitate the camper, once I had gotten it home.
Reaching the decision to sleep in the following morning and head for home freed me to concentrate on the current hunt, for what little time remained for the rest of the evening. I issued a short series of grunts with the grunt call hanging on a lanyard around my neck. Before I could set it down an unfamiliar, almost frightening noise pierced through the steady sound created by the blowing wind. It came from the far left side of the thicket and is hard to describe. It's also hard to duplicate but I'll give a go. In a very deep tone it went, whumpwoooooooooosh!
Now, Ive heard deer vocalize before with grunts, blows and bawls, but I've never heard anything like this scary sound causing the hairs on my arms to rise. Just to make sure my imagination wasn't playing tricks with me, I lifted the call to my lips again and blew another series of grunts. Again the noise responded but this time it had moved in the thicket toward my right and had remained hidden from view. The hairs on my arm lifted a little higher into the air, riding on goosebumps. I allowed the next five minutes to quietly pass before I tried the grunt again. I recieved a third whumpwoooooosh from the thicket, but this time it had moved to be directly in front of my face.
I finally figured out what I was hearing. The monster buck dominating this part of the woods was issuing an aggressive snort-wheeze sound. He was staying hidden from view searching for the intruder into his territory. He was ready to fight and being very smart about it. He wanted to see the strange buck calling him out, before stepping into the open. We challenged each other, calling back and forth, for the next forty-five minutes, and yet he refused to show himself.
I became silent for the last thirty minutes of daylight, hoping his curiosity would get the best of him. It didn't. I never did set my eyes on him, but I was left thrilled over the new experience.
Forced to climb down from the tree in the darkness, I silently stood for several minutes staring at the stand, tempted to leave it there and come back to hunt, in the morning. In the end, I couldn't think of a better way to end my stay in the woods, leaving the old buck alone, waiting for my return next year. I thanked God for the new experience, packed the stand onto my back and began heading out to meet Mike and Bryan. I continued praying on the way. One experience, I could continue to do without and that is, stepping on a rattlesnake lying hidden in the cover of darkness.
I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I did.
