Buck Fever

         

Hi guys!

 

This last Saturday started deer season here. I love deer hunting. It's probably one of my favorite things about fall. Everything gets put on hold for deer season: NaNoWriMo, housework, socializing. I become that really annoying daughter/sister that wants her kid babysat every single day.

 

This year has been no exception.

This year though, I've had the worst luck of my life.

I'm starting to question whether I am meant to be hunting.

It's been ridiculous.

 

Opening morning Jarod had to haul cows all day so he asked a couple of his friends if I could tag along with them. They were awesome enough to say yes and came to pick me up. They've got a nice little blind with windows and a heater in it. The only trouble was, it was 12 degrees, with a wind chill of 1. The windows were completely frozen shut, and the heater didn't feel like working. So if there were any deer out there, we didn't see them because the windows were frosted over. As hard as the wind was blowing though, I'd say they were hunkered down like any sane creature would be.

 

That evening I went out by myself and sat in a little spot. It had warmed up to a whopping 23 degrees, and the wind had died down, so it felt pretty good. All I saw were two does. They walked up close enough to chuck a rock at if I wanted to, then they must have figured out what I was because they ran off. And guys, they made this noise I've never heard in my life. It scared the tar out of me. Go look up a deer warning call on Youtube.

 

Day two I got out too late, and the deer were all over the place while I was trying to get to my spot. I ended up hunkering down in some fallen branches (and a sticker patch, just saying) and hunting like that. Still only saw does.

 

That evening Jarod and I went and sat in tree stands. His stand is close enough that I can see him through the trees. So as we're sitting there, I see him lift his gun and aim at something. Cue me panicking, trying to see whatever he's looking at. I can't see anything. But he's obviously aiming at something. So I'm over in my tree stand dying, and suddenly I see a squirrel bopping along through the trees.

 My husband gave me a heart attack because he wanted to watch a little squirrel through his scope.

 

Then a doe came through. I waited. It stands to reason that if there is a doe, there should be a buck. But this year it hasn't really been working. I don't think they're truly in rut yet.

But for this particular doe a buck did come along.

He was big enough I thought I'd take a shot if he would just come out in the open.

But do you think he would do that? No. He stood behind a tree and peeked around it.

Not even joking. Then he left the way he'd come and I never got a shot.

 

Cue Maddie starting to get just a little bit on edge and crabby.

 

After that we got to the week and I didn't get to go hunting in the mornings anymore.

Monday evening I went out and sat in a different spot where I would have a good view of the trail that buck had come in on.

Way out across a field, way further than a person could shoot, I saw a deer come out. I could see enough through my scope to know he was a buck, but a little guy. No big deal.

Next deer that came out was a doe.

Then another buck. This one only had one antler. Carry on my lopsided friend.

Then up popped another buck. Except for this one didn't come out. I could see his head. I knew he was a buck. And then he went back in the trees. He's a smart one. So I'd say he was probably big. Big deer are always cagey like that.

Then a doe came down the trail next to me. She sat about twenty feet away for nearly half an hour, just eating away like nobody's business.

I thought for sure a buck would follow her, but no such luck.

 

Then I hear something crunching in the thickets down where my tree stand is. There's a little bit of a ditch that runs through there, and walking through the ditch I could see horns. Just horns. No body to shoot at. That deer went right down in where my tree stand was and just made himself to home.

I was so stinking upset.

Then a doe comes out of those same trees, so I'm thinking surely he'll follow her out.

But no, not surely.

Out comes a tiny little spike buck.

He's being all hormonal and does not want her to go back in the trees.

Now in my mind, it would have been absolutely reasonable for the big buck to come out and thrash this little punk and assert his dominance, therefore letting me shoot him.

But he had other ideas. Never did see him.

 

Meanwhile the punk is chasing this doe around and being a general brat.

Well, amidst all that chaos he saw me and boy did he get ticked.

He stood about twenty feet away, stomping and shaking his head like he was hot stuff.

When he started to march closer, I'd had quite enough.

I waved at him and he took off like a scared little twerp, only to stop a few feet away and go back to throwing his tantrum at me.

I was starting to think I was going to have a throw down and waste good ammunition on this little punk who couldn't get his act together.

One more wave did the trick though and he finally ran off.

By then it was dark, so I headed for the pickup.

 

Last night Jarod babysat for me, so I went out and sat in my tree stand. (It's really hard to outguess deer, guys. Don't try it.)

I sat. And I sat. And I sat.

Now normally, I like nature. I think squirrels are cute, woodpeckers are amazing, and field mice are fine as long as they stay away from the house.

During deer season, all of that goodwill goes away.

I hate them.

Every single one of them.

Nothing drives me insane like thinking I'm hearing a trophy buck marching through the brush, only to discover that mice are playing acrobatics in the leaves.

Squirrels make about as much racket as a stampede of elephants, and I don't know, there's just something about being on edge and then adding a woodpecker incessantly tap, tap, tapping.

I was on the threshold of losing my mind and opening fire on mice.

I didn't see anything. Nothing came by my tree. Nothing came by beyond my tree.

 

Then a hawk came in and dive bombed a little covey of quail. The quail panicked and took off, making a bunch of racket on the way out.

And you know what happened when they did?

They scared away a buck and a doe that had been sleeping completely undetected  out in the thickets.

 

I very nearly threw my gun out of the tree.

 

So that's my story for the week.

 

What about you?

Tell me you've had better luck in your endeavors than I have.