It wasn't icey cold or snowy, just a little drizzly. Seeing as how it was October it was a pretty wet "cold." My nose was red and sniffly and my hands were already stiff and I hadn't even put on my gloves yet. I had spent the last five minutes getting my pep talk...and detailed instructions on what to do if needed help or got into trouble. My heart was racing. I was darn nervous. Is this really what I wanted to do? That's when Jason started strapping and wrapping me up, in a canvas sling with hooks and belts going every which way. How would I ever do this all by myself? Most people do this with a buddy or a group of freinds and he was ....sending me ALONE? MY FIRST TIME? Are you kidding me? (At that time, I didn't know people went with other people...I'm pretty sure this was my husband's strategic plan for our future hunting years. He knew I didn't know any better). I think the sight of myself was enough to get me scared. I think I was beginning to sweat through the inside of my boots (or should I say 200 lb. socks inside my boots), and then all the way through the 2 layers of pants and 3 layers of shirts and coat. All of a sudden I felt a little claustraphobic so I ripped off my camouflage bandana and took a deep breath in. I didn't want to seem nervous in front of my husband so I pretended I had to "redo" the "do" with the camo rag. After I was "put together" and he finished going over everything once more, that's when he led me astray. He introduced me to my addiction I didn't know I had. A fever I never knew of. An addiction that had yet to be fed that would soon take over my whole thought process. He led me into the deep dark wild, the bosom of the wilderness, the cold and never-ending woods that would butt up to a corn field just coming out of season. A field providing the last bit of food for the deer to find as everything started going dormant for the winter.
And there it was, the tree stand he'd set up the year before. Now, this was not a simple ladder stand. Had I known there was such a thing as a ladder stand I would have wrung his neck for making me climb this peg-in-winded-uneven-crooked-tree stand; not to mention climbing with an extra 300 lbs of garb on your body, pet bow in hand, trying not to snag your tree strap on a random branch as you scrape belly up the tree. It's even harder when your fingers are frozen. (Once again, my husband's strategic plan to make all the hunts to come a mere breeze. What a smart man. After my first hunt, I would be able to do anything.) WHEW! I was up. Hand on seat. Steady. What a view I had! Now...I just had to figure out how to turn around and get my arse set down. That's when Jason hollered from 20 ft. below "Be sure you get yourself strapped in first! You don't want to fall out of that thing!"
Uh...how was I supposed to do that? I was holding on for dear life with one hand on the seat, and one arm hugging my body against the tree afraid to let go...that's when I just let go, jumped up, turned myself around and got myself positioned to where I thought I wanted to be. Once again, WHEW!
After some coaching from below, this whole tying myself to a tree with a canvas thing-a-ma-jigger going up my crotch, squeezing my boobs just wasn't working out. So J finally climbed up and helped me out. Thanks I said...with a big fat wet smooch that nearly got us stuck together up there because of the cold wetness. (It didn't happen though...darn it!) That's when he left me. "I'll be back in a few hours! Good Luck!"
And that's history. I sat there in that tree for about 3 hours that day. Alone. Finally coming to a level only hunter's have been to. I got it! I finally understood why anyone in their right mind would do something like this. I spent countless minutes staring, thinking, praying, worshipping, praising God, admiring, and yearning to see an animal...preferably a deer, but at this point anything would do. And then I spent the whole rest of the time, thinking "Why didn't I pee BEFORE I went hunting?" Yes! I could call myself a hunter now! I knew he was proud of me! I now knew why he needed this. At least I thought I did. Until I saw the first herd of deer come into sight across the feild about 100 yards away. And that's when it hit me. I had buck fever and have had it ever since. A feeling, an addiction, a true fever racing through my veins and I need my fix NOW! Finally I had found another place in God's green (or at this time, kinda brown) earth where I BELONGED. I don't belong too many places on this earth, but in that tree in a cold day was one place I knew the Good Lord made for me. I never did get my deer that year. J did. An eleven-point rack. It's on my wall, I helped him feild dress it and kissed it for a picture before we butchered it and ate all the meat..which isn't as good as doe meat. So this year, I'm getting my trophy buck. There's much more to this story than can ever be told. You wouldn't understand. No offense, but until you've done it, you will never know the rush of this drug called hunting. This year, I'm bagging the limit. That's my challenge.
I have 69 days until opening day. My list of "to-do's" is growing. My anticipation is eating me alive. It will be hard waiting.
This year, if I get that granddaddy buck, I'm going on a bear hunt in 2009.
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