Sunday, November 13, 2005

Read All About It - Morons Skunked Again, Blogger Goes Vegetarian - Read All About It!

Well, no deer again today, surprise. Are you starting to lose faith in my hunting abilities yet? If you aren't, I salute your persistence, because I am. Just kidding. We actually got a pick me upper thingy today, WE SAW A DEER THAT WE LEGALLY COULD HAVE SHOT! YEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAW! Too bad that he took off before we could turn him into food, but hey, at least we got a tiny little sliver of a chance right?

We even got a look at the same deer later, we even could have shot him legally the second time too. Too bad that he was about a hundred yards away . . . . . straight down. Which would have required dragging him a hundred yards . . . . . straight up. Do you see why my freezer is still empty? It's enough hope to bring us back for more though, in spite of everything else that went wrong. But then again it doesn't take much to keep us amused. Simple minds, simple pleasures I guess.

Here's a few nature pics for you all to enjoy. I'm starting to like this whole idea of telling a story with pictures. Thank goodness for digital cameras, I take a lot more pics now that I don't have to pay to get them developed.

We saw these two first thing this morning, last year's fawns. Awful cute, would probably be awful tasty, but to shoot them would be just awful. First of all they're too young, I may be a deerslayer but I ain't no Bambi killer. Second, they're illegal, can't shoot does in this district and since they don't got horns, they ain't legal. I wondered where their mommy was, until I spied her skylined up on top of a hill, she sure looked important up there, I'm starting to enjoy taking pictures of deer almost as much as eating them. I just need a bigger zoom.

Now obviously we couldn't shoot her because does aren't legal, but can you give me one more reason why this one would be a bad idea? If you said because she's skylined, put a gold star next to your name. What goes up must come down, and you don't want a stray bullet coming down in a bad place, so the best way to avoid that is to not send a stray bullet up in the air in the first place. If there isn't a good backstop, don't shoot. I don't really know this stuff, it's just what my kid told me. ;)

So, we headed a little further west, in search of happier hunting grounds. Is it just me or are the Crazy Mountains just about the finest darn thing in the world to bounce a sunrise off of? I need to start taking the camera to work with me, I've seen some of the most outstanding sunrise photo ops up around Big Timber, the Crazies all lit up in shades of pink and red, I'll have to get some pics of it someday.

Oh yeah, we're hunting, almost forgot. We headed up into the mountains and once again, deer lining both sides of the road, on private land, with big orange fence posts all around it, damn PETA. There was one fair sized 4 point buck in the bunch, a couple spikes and a two point, nothing spectacular, but I'm not a horn hunter. They all would have been legal had they not been on private land. There was an absolute plethora of does, since does are illegal this year there should be more deer next year than you can shake a multipointed stick at. Maybe I should just give up until next year. Maybe I should give up entirely. Maybe I should just take some time off, and then quit.

Shortly after passing all of these deer which were safely resting in a PETA preserve, we entered National Forest land and spied a little spike. SPIKES ARE LEGAL! FOREST SERVICE IS LEGAL! YEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!

I didn't actually yell yeehaaw but I wanted to. Instead I drove on down the road a little bit since deer rarely run from a vehicle until it stops and people get out and start shooting. I parked the truck in a wide spot in the road and we started walking back down the draw that we spotted the little spike standing in about 3/4 of a mile back. We got to where he was just in time to see where he wasn't. He boogied, and took his girlfriends with him, not so much as a trace. We'd find out where he boogied to later, but first we had to get the truck stuck.

Now you may wonder why I accompany my last statement with so little fanfare, easy, It isn't a complete hunting season unless you get the truck stuck at least once, it just isn't. For someone with luck like mine, it isn't a complete hunting season unless you get the truck stuck way the hell back in the way back, without a prayer of anyone coming along to help, and with all of your get unstuck type of gear safely stowed at home in the garage where it belongs. Don't want it getting dirty now do we?

So anyway, we slide off of the damn trail, and the more I try to get back on it, the further down the hill the thing slides. Luckily it didn't just take off all the way down into the nethervoids of the rocks below right off the bat, thanks to a friendly old dead tree laying on the ground that was not only nice enough to stop my truck from being lost forever, but it did some groovy custom body work to the front half of my box as well. This is why I drive an old truck. Can you believe that some people take new trucks hunting. I was mildly annoyed when I saw the dent in my truck, I would have been mildly ballistic had I saw a similar dent in a truck that I was making 600 dollar a month payments on. But I don't make 600 dollar a month payments, and I don't call tow trucks, so now how the hell to get this thing out of here.

What happened next is the reason why I believe in a higher power, a higher power with a sense of humor, a higher power that quite likely created me simply for his own amusement. Luckily it doesn't seem to take too long for him to get done being amused by me, because for no reason at all, in the absolute middle of I ain't gonna see nobody for weeks type of nowhere, along comes another truck with two hunters in it.

These guys were local and said that over the course of several years that they had lost track of how many trucks that they had helped out of the exact same predicament that we were in. One of the guys said that he had been stuck in the same spot just a week before, for about the millionth time in his life, so I didn't feel so stupid. It was just one of those truck trap kinda spots. So anyway, they helped, we dug, they towed, I cussed, and eventually my now blemished beasty was back on the trail. I was happy, they were happy, my kid was happy, and they were even happier when I handed them 50 bucks for their trouble. They didn't have to stop, they didn't have to spend an hour and a half helping me, they didn't have to break their tow strap, and I don't call tow trucks. Thanks guys.

I'm gonna start a new activist group. I'm gonna call it PETT. People for the Ethical Treatment of Trucks. I won't be eligible for membership, I'm just gonna start it.

Now why my son still goes hunting with me I have no idea, I think that he gets just as amused as the creator with my antics. Maybe he's a glutton for punishment like his old man, I don't know but it doesn't seem like a year can go by without me putting him in some type of potentially desperate peril, in some desperately remote location, with nothing but a desperate hope of rescue. Sounds desperate, doesn't it? Somehow we always seem to come out alright though. Reminds me of the many adventures that I had with my dad . . . . is bad/good luck hereditary? I think ingenuity is, my dad doesn't call tow trucks either. ;)

So once again we're motoring happily along when on the way back down to civilization our new found friends stop and start pointing down a great precipice. We jump out of the battered beasty and low and behold, far below us is our little friend Spike. We could've shot him, we could've walked back down that same coulee we were walking down earlier that day and managed to drag him back to the road albeit it would've still been uphill, or we could let him live another day since we were all tired from heaving a 5200 pound Chevy truck around for the last hour and a half. We let him live. Maybe he'll be a two point next year. Maybe we'll find his daddy next week. Maybe I'll trade my rifle for a set of needles and hoops and take up embroidery and the SOB can die of old age for all I care.

All this and I haven't even tried to go elk hunting yet. How about cross stitch?


Joe Visionary said...

When I tried hunting years ago, I did so for the excuse to go walking around in forests. Forget the cross-stitching, better for you to be out with your son.

Despite getting skunked and the truck misadventure, it still sounds like you had a good day.

If you do get a camera with a telephoto lens, you may branch out into some terrific bird-watching too.

Dawn said...

Little Brother. your sister shot a Deer on Sunday. I'm emailing you a picture of my Buck 5x4 wait till you see this.....

Dawn said...

at least you didn't dent the fuel door .. By the way- my deer was 100 yards off the road. we drove past - I got out walked over to the ditch- he started to walk away -I whistled he stopped and looked at me. BOOM one perfectly placed heart shot as for bird watching - are eagle legal to shoot yet?????

Joe Visionary said...

You'd want to shoot an eagle?! Is the meat anywhere near as magnificent as that bird is flying?

I don't want to wade into the 'let's save the bunnies' camp, but for a long time Americans were having to buy young eagles from us in Canada just to restore your national bird to your national wilds.

If you tell me you want to hunt Canada geese, I may even send you the shot.

Justin said...

Good to hear it sis. I could've shot several deer in the last two years but as you know, I'm a little more concerned with letting the boy have his chance. When are you going to quit horn hunting? I'm sure a 5x4 would look great on the wall, too bad they eat like shoe leather. Glad to hear that your marksmanship is improving anyway. ;)

Good to hear from you Joe. A bad day hunting is always better than a good day working for sure. She was just joking about the eagles, you have to remember, she is my sister. ;) I haven't ever been goose hunting, I've heard some people say that they're good eating, others say that they're terrible. I don't know, maybe I'll have to try it someday. There's definately no shortage of them around here. As for bird watching, it would be interesting from a learning standpoint anyway. I've always wanted to be one of those people that could rattle off the name of every bird that goes by. I got some pictures of a big owl Sunday, and I'm curious as to what kind of owl it is. The pictures are from a long ways off so I don't know if I'll be able to figure it out or not but I got a good look at him through the binoculars. I'll post the pic with the official verdict when I get time to figure it out.

Justin said...

Hey sis, I went and checked out the pic of your deer. Wow, that is weird, he probably got injured back when his antlers started growing last winter/spring sometime, hit by a car or hung up in a fence or something. He probably would have been ok though, if he made it long enough to shed. His antlers would have probably grown back normal next year. Anyway, have fun chewing on him. ;)

Dawn said...

I was looking for a doe (better eating- I know)but I figured getting this one out of the gene pool was doing it a favor. the taxidermist says that the thingie that the antlers grow out of was deformed and probably would have grown that way again-if it wasn't dead.P.S. horns are what you put on 4-wheelers to scare tree huggers with. Antlers are for tags and dragging them up hills.

Ron Meredith said...

Justin, I enjoyed your story. I agree that time with your son is time well spent whether it resulted in a dent or a deer. I was only able to take my son hunting a few times and would love to do so again. I don't hunt anymore but would take it up in a minute if he moved back to Montana. I like your pictures and look forward to others in your hunting adventures.

Janna said...

This reminds me of hunting trips with my dad when I was teen. He wouldn't call a tow truck either. However he did have a CB radio and he would send out an SOS signal in secret code. "Dead Eye (dad) to CarpShooter (his friend) we are out of beer, I repeat we are out of beer, please meet us at the Crooked Coulee with back up." When his friend would find us Dad would get him to tow the truck out of whatever ditch he was in or tow him back to town when the Ford Ranger would run out of gas.
I really miss those days.

Justin said...

People that drive Fords and don't call tow trucks posess a level of fortitude that I can merely aspire to. ;) While running out of gas is quite feasible out in the middle of nowhere, running out of beer is entirely unexcusable. Did your father not believe in making adequate emergency preperations? Whenever one ventures out into the wilds he/she should make absolutely certain that he/she has an adequate supply of all essentials, you never know when a simple predicament could escalate into a survival situation. Running out of beer at a time of such heightened desparation could spell disaster. Learn from his mistakes, whatever amount of beer that you would normally take along, double it, just for safety's sake. ;)

Thanks for the comments everyone!

janna said...

My father has always treated his beer like he treats his toilet paper: use large quantities, quality is not always necessary (Natural Light = One Ply, and emergency supplies are typically used up just before dawn. :)
Thanks for the tips. I'll remember that when I join him for waterfowl season. I'll have to remember to bring the scotch to keep us from freezing to death under the blinds.

Justin said...

I prefer my catalytic propane heater for warmth, you just have to be careful not to set it too close to the beer cooler. Don't ask me how I know that. ;)