Thursday, April 4, 2013

March and some "madness"...

      Despite the fact that the calendar says its Spring, someone forgot to tell Mother Nature…Cold and damp with a constant annoying drizzle, Drew and I watched a hidden clear cut, tucked away in an oak flat, deep in the middle of a 1000 acres of Tennessee forest. Old oaks and towering hemlocks surrounded our hiding spot as we waited for our prey to make its appearance. Maples just on the verge of exploding with their new leaves…

      Two hours into our vigil and it seemed that our chosen quarry had other plans. No sign of game anywhere as the drizzle faded into a mist and the temperature slowly began to rise. We discussed our game plan and decided it was time to make a move and see if we could find our target. The boy and I bickered back and forth about which direction to hike and what logging road to take…I bit my tongue and remembered that I too was once a 15 year old boy and more often than not, didn’t see eye to eye with my dad. Testing his wings and feeling his oats I surmised…

      We sneaked through the soft woods and slipped our way along the muddy logging roads looking for sign. We came to a crossroads, littered with hoof prints and took up the trail. Twenty minutes into our track, we spied a rooted up area under a stand of white oaks. A good sign I thought, but again disagreement between the kid and I. I insisted that the damage to the woods’ floor was caused by our goal, he contended it was nothing more than evidence of squirrels working for acorns or turkeys scratching out their next meal…We grumbled back and forth and then decided to split up and cool off…

      Another hour or so had passed, thoughts had been thought and tempers calmed. The two of us met back up and all was well. Neither had loosed and arrow while we were separated, but both of us found signs of encouragement that lifted our spirits and hopes that we’d soon cross paths with the appropriate critter…

      We later met up with property manager, Johnny, and he had further news that added a hop to our step. He had seen four animals earlier that morning feeding through a stand of oaks, searching out acorns. We hatched a plan and in short order, the three of us were making our way up the steep side of a Tennessee foot hill. We slowly crested the hill and there they were, 70 yards to our front, but oblivious to our presence. By the looks of things, romance was in the air as they chased each other about. Drew took the lead and we crept closer in hopes of getting within range of his stickbow…Slowly we cut the distance. Finally, 30 yards out and we’re busted. The matriarch of the group stood and faced us. A stare down was on…She bristled and took a few angry steps towards us causing uneasy feelings and a quickened pulse! I secretly looked for trees for us to climb in the event of a bull rush! She had had enough and the group crashed their way down the logging road and into the thick tangles of downed tree tops.


      Disheartened, but excited, Johnny told us to crouch down at the edge of the road and felt that they would circle back and hopefully give Drew and chance for a shot. We caught glimpses of black and grey, muscle and gristle working their way back to our spot and the white oak acorns. The old gal was leading the way, following a trail right to our impromptu hiding spot. At first we were invisible, but then she locked her gaze on us…

      Normally, the moment of truth in hunting situations causes all the world to go into slow motion mode. Not this time…As soon as eye contact was made, the nasty looking old broad picked up her pace and trotted directly at us. The closer she got, the louder her teeth popping and tusk clacking became. She grunted and huffed and finally veered off our path at ten yards. She paused for a moment, debating a full on charge, a bluff or a retreat…The pause became her downfall. Just as she was about to make her move, I caught movement to my right as Drew released an arrow from his recurve. The broadhead caught the rank, old sow just behind the shoulder. She let out a loud bark and squeals and in an instant, the entire group had vacated the country. The wild hog stopped about twenty yards out, staggered and fell, over in a matter of seconds.


      I looked over my right shoulder in time to see Johnny congratulate the boy on a fine shot and for keeping his cool under adrenalin filled circumstances. In my excitement and happiness for Drew’s success, I wanted to give the kid a hug, to still see him as a youngster, a little boy. But I knew that this moment deserved more…a handshake between a father and son, between a young man and his dad.
   

1 comment:

  1. More great storytelling and writing. Congratulations to Drew on his trophy!

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