Well....here I am at the end of another hunting trip in Michigan. My bags are packed....little Brody is playing with a slinky on the stairs next to me, and we are waiting for the pizza shack in town to finish our pizza's so we can eat lunch. We have to leave here at 3 pm so we can make the 3 hour drive to Detroit. Our flight isn't until 8pm...but of course we have errands to run on the way back. We have to go to the sporting goods store 40 minutes away to return unused shotgun shells, and of course we have to hit the beer store to medicate for our drive, and for the plane ride back home. We are trying to strategically figure out how to nail the right nap time for little Brody. You see......if we run him around in circles outside in the snow, 2 things will happen. He will succomb to a mad case of hyperthermia...and he will fall asleep on the way to the airport, which is bad. We need him to sleep ON THE PLANE instead. So any suggestions would be great. Cloraform....anything!
In a perfect world....I had wanted to write each day, in order to keep y'all imformed of my lack of progress...but it just didn't work out the way that I had wanted for various reasons. I mean there were all sorts of noteworthy things to write about on this trip. Things ranging from our trip to the gun range to sight our guns in ( I was shooting pretty well until I challenged Joey to a contest in which I placed two 3"x3" plastic bullet containers out at 175 yds on our target post. I took the first shot and swore that I hit it. I saw a mark through my scope but it was so far out that I couldn't differentiate between a hole...or dirt! Of course smartass Joey has to point out that if I had hit it...it wouldn't still be hanging on the post. I tried to brush that off and simply claim that my bullet was travelling so fast and precise...that it hit it with such accuracy and force....that it didn't have time to fall off of the post! I was dead wrong. Joey ends up hitting both of the little plastic thingy's and sending them flying in pieces off of the stupid post. Jackass!) Then there is the story of Joey and I going to the local bar after a night of hunting, and feasting on 22 oz beers that were only $2.45 each. After about 6 each...we decided to trek back towards the house, and hit another bar on the way. We stayed at that bar for a couple more and called it a night. Upon leaving...I remember that our hunting supply of beer is low, and I bring this to his attention. We decide to hit the gas station next to the second bar, in order to buy another 24 pack of beer for the woods. (remember...we are walking and it is 22 degrees out and snowing) It is late...I am tired and half drunk. We walk into this gas station, Joey goes for the beer cooler, and I go for the munchies. I find my favorite brand of Bugels.....the ones that have a caramel coating to them because after 8+ beers...they are quite yummy. I approach the counter and I notice that the lady isn't looking at me. In fact it seems that she is focused on something in the distance...like, say....the beer cooler. Blood rushes from my head to my toes, and I slowly decide to turn and see what she is staring at. Joey is standing at the beer cooler with one 24 pack on the floor beside him. He has his foot on the side of the door and he is tugging at another one from inside the cooler! There is blood on his hand and he is very focused on getting this out of the cooler. He approaches the counter rather non chalantly, with two 24 packs of Bud Light. He smiles at the nice lady, and places them on the counter. She looks at me...then at him, and says " I am sorry sir, but you are drunk and I cannot sell these to you." Joey looks at me....then at her, and says "Are you kidding me?" The nice lady looks again at me...then at Joey, and says " Sir, you are obviously intoxicated, and I cannot sell you any beer." Joey skips looking at me this time, and says to her, " But we are walking." She looks at me, and with her eyes...makes this eye motion thing towards the door. I guess that summed it up! I never did get to eat those Caramel coated Bugels....
Hunting is always loads of fun for me. I mean, I get skunked every year....and this year is no different! You have to really be dedicated to be a hunter. Let me break it down for you a little, so that you can understand the sacrifices that you make. A typical day consists of being up at 5:30 a.m. I fill my coffee thermos, get dressed into 3 layers of clothing (which makes peeing quite difficult and arduous), You head out to the woods by 6 a.m. (mind you....it is 23 degrees and snowing...and still dark) The idea is.....to get to your blind, get settled and wait for the sun to come up. Then you watch out of your little windows while freezing your grapes off....waiting for that ever so elusive deer to peek out of the woods, to forage for food. In my blind....I have a ritual. I get seated....load a couple of bullets into my gun, put the safety on, and then prop it against the wall in a strategic "quick grab" location. Then I set 5 beers in the snow....slurp my coffee, and wait patiently. At around noon...you break the icicles off of your nose, clean up your empty beer cans (cause drinking while hunting is highly not well thought of by the DNR), and you start walking back to the farm, for the drive back into town. It is beautiful out in the woods here. It is scenery that you just don't get in Florida. You come into town....Joey's mom cooks lunch...we drink more beer...I nap until 3 pm and we do it all over again in the woods from 3 pm until you can't see to shoot any longer. I am a firm believer that the deer move more often in the evening versus the morning. I know how I am about getting out of bed in the morning....and I would assume that deer are no different! This trip for me always plays out the same way. I rarely see much during the first few days. It almost always winds down to the last day...and then I see deer....and Joey shoots them instead of me! Last year...I shot at a deer with my bow, and missed...I had a staredown in the middle of a road with a deer while he stomped his hooves and glared at me as if he were about to charge, and I shot a turkey with my bow....and it simply walked away from me gobbling....as if to say "Nyah nyah"..... I know I hit that bastard. Last night's hunt was no different. It all ended the same.....miserably.
I chose to hunt out of the Tower blind (which is where I shot the dang turkey last year). After being tired of being frostbitten the whole week...I took Joey's Dad's advice, and decided to throw some charcoal into a metal can and light it for warmth. (Big Mistake) Here I am in this little shack....probably about 6'x6'. It is snowing like crazy outside, and probably in the low 20's. I light the charcoal and begin to relax. Obviously...the charcoal was smoking....and I start to notice these little spiders hanging from the ceiling. Either the smoke...or the warmth was bringing them out of their cracks. I hate spiders...so I started freaking out. I used the lighter to burn every one of them. But it seemed that everytime I turned around...another one had dropped from the sky! It was a scene straight out of a bad horror movie...and this was how I spent my 1st hour of hunting- defending my fort against damn spiders! 10 deer could have walked right out side of my door, and I would have never of known....I was busy fighting for my life! Finally I had beat the spiders, and was ready to focus on hunting. It was absolutely beautiful outside...snowy and...well like I said....beautiful. I was getting lightheaded...and I had only cracked 2 beers at this point. That was when I realized that burning charcoal produces carbon monoxide. You know....that colorless, odorless gas that kills people? So I decide to try to mask that smell by adding some frozen wood to my fire. (Another big mistake) Because the wood is frozen....it has to thaw before it burns (which means smoke) So here I am...in this 6'x6' wooden fort, with smoke billowing inside. A nasty combo of charcoal smoke and old hard wood smoke. It was all I could do to keep myself from passing out. So I stuck my head out of the windward window, tasted snow on my tongue....and that is when I saw them- turkeys! I swear...one of them was the one I shot last year. I could feel it in my gut. They were too far to shoot at...but there was one. He kept looking back as they waddled away. Looking....staring.....waddling with kind of a lazy walk....yeah, that was him. I turn to look out the door...and there he was....a deer!!! He was about 100 yards to my right, just outside of the woods, in the field. I thought to myself as my heart began to race..."this is it....I am going to actually shoot my first deer!" I level my gun, click the safety off...and I simply watch him for 15 seconds while focusing on my breathing. I have a clear shot...and I decide to take it. "KAPOW!" I take the shot and drop my gun to see if he falls. And as history would repeat...he takes off running! I run out of the blind and into the clearing. As I do this....I see the same deer about 300 yards to my right...with 2 other deer!! As soon as they see me....they haul ass! It is getting darker...so I decide to walk to where he was standing...and see if there is any blood. Nothing. So as I am following his tracks and really focusing on the ground... (this was 5 minutes or so) I hear it.... "KAPOW!" God dangit....the shot came from the direction of where Joey and little Brody were sitting. This couldn't be happening to me again! He shot my damn deer!!! So I take off in that direction...leaving my gloves behind, and a raging fire burning inside my shack...oh and my beer too! I get to Joey...and of course we see blood on the ground! Sonofabitch hit my deer. So I tell Joey that I hit him....and the blood actually came from my shot instead. He was having none of this, and we started to track the blood trail. Well....we found the deer about 200 yards into the woods (thank god for snow). We get up onto it... and Joey doesn't see a hole...but his ear is all bloody. Of course you know that is where I claimed I shot the deer...was in his ear. We roll the deer over...and of course found a hole in his side. Game over...Joey claims victory again! I am sticking to my story that I shot it in the ear...which ruined his equilibrium...and then Joey shot him in the belly. Either way....he shot my deer. Worst part is....I had to listen to a little 4 year old, all the way back into town...talking about how his Daddy shot MY deer. We ended the night...sitting around the dinner table. Little 4 yr old Brody...sitting there in his cute p.j.'s with the feetsies. I simply wanted love and sympathy. What I got...was a little 4 year old staring at me intently from across the table. He offered this advice (and this is no lie, nor was it prompted) "Best buddy...I think you need to go to the gun range to practice your shoot gun." Yep......it really sums it all up. I hate this trip!!! 362 days until the next one....
