We were just ahead of the front that came through Friday on the way back to Madison. The temperature dropped from 82 degrees to 58 degrees in seven minutes. To the Northwest, a brilliant rainbow appeared in the midst of dark and boiling clouds along the squall line. Winds were steady at 15 and gusting to 35. My truck shook with the crosswind until we finally hit I-55 and picked up a semi-tailwind. Another rainbow formed to our west and as we neared Duck Hill, it seemed to consume us. I suppose we were at the other end of it for I didn’t notice any gold in the middle of the highway. Earl and I both commented we had never been embedded in the color spectrum for so long. It was as if we could reach out of the window and pluck a “violet” or “green” or a “yellow” out of the air. It’s something I have never seen before and perhaps never will see again but hopefully it will have some significance of good luck that may fall our way. Time will tell.
Our agenda for leaving the delta in “technicolor” was one more leg in the race to finish deer camp tasks that have been at hand for literally months. I swear it seems all we do is work on preparing for deer season and it worsens each year. I keep waiting for the day that we finish the last chores and it just happens to be on the last day of season. Let me walk you through this ordeal and see if you can relate.
Let’s start in August. Tractors and bush hogs lead the charge by clipping roads and food plots. Of course someone must lead the way with a chainsaw to remove limbs, logs, and trees that have fallen since the last season closed. This endeavor is not trouble-free either. Several flat tires slow the process. Have you priced tractor tires lately?
Chainsaws have a mind of their own too. One may run like a top all day and then suddenly, you can’t start it no matter how you choke it, pull it, or cuss it. I never will forget the day I was 20 feet up in a tree to cut an overhanging limb that was blocking a shooting lane. Mr. John would start the saw and hand it to Bruce who was halfway up a ladder who would then walk it up to me as I straddled the limb to be cut. Of course just as he would hand me the running saw, it would die and the process would start all over again. I guess the saw finally had enough as Mr. John couldn’t get it started again after pulling on the rope multiple times. Out of breath, he just looked up and shook his head. Bruce, looking down from aloft, said “cuss it one time Mr. John.” Mr. John casually says back, “Bruce, I can’t remember the last time I said a cuss word.” The whole tree shook from laughter when Bruce replied back, “you keep pulling on that rope and it’ll come back to you.” Lord, I’ve never laughed so hard.
Back to the endeavors, you’re always going to bend the blade of the saw when it gets pinched by the log. That’s $75. Of course once clipped they have to be sprayed with herbicide, then disked, then harrowed, then planted and fertilized, then harrowed again. I swear where does it end? We’re just getting started.
Straps on stands must be checked. Wasp nests have to be robbed and sprayed. Floors on box stands have to be replaced because someone failed to close the windows the last day of the season and it’s been raining inside for eight months. Bridges have to be checked to cross with tractors and other vehicles. Then bridges have to be replaced because the one we “thought” was good really wasn’t. Burlap netting has to be replaced on stands so we won’t look like the great pumpkin sitting in a tree. Flagging and bright eyes are put in place so we can find our way in and out of the swamp. I failed to mention that new stands have to be purchased because someone found that magical spot where trophy bucks lurk in droves. Add this to the ever escalating bill.
Camp dwellings must be cleaned spic and span to rid them of brown recluse spiders and snake skins. Yes, you heard correctly, snakes find their way in over the quiet summer months to lounge on the sofa. Televisions, refrigerators, and hot water heaters must also be replaced that either stopped working or somehow disappeared over the summer.
What else is there? Did I mention bows and rifles have to be fine tuned? New arrows and broadheads are a must. We must start over with our rifles for our favorite ammunition is no longer available. You know, I’ve been wanting a new scope. What’s one more lick on a red hot fanny. What’s crazy is that I have barely scratched the surface on what I call “deer camp stuff.” I’m sure many of you have a different word for what we go through just to get ready.
Does this sound familiar? Do you go through the same scenario year after year after year just so you may have a chance to get away from work and enjoy the woods in the winter? I continue to ask myself why? Is it worth it? Well, to me it surely is. The time that I get to spend at camp with my son and my best friends makes it all worthwhile. It’s not easy and it’s not all about just collecting venison. JH summed it up pretty well when he said, “Well, we’re almost finished.” Almost is the key word here, but I surely hope so and I bet you do too.
Until next time enjoy our woods and waters and remember let’s leave it better than we found it.
