Buck Tales, Chapter 2

An excerpt from my hunting journal, Sunday 13 Dec 09, 8:05am:

"It is the 7th morning of my hunting career. I've been sitting in my new chair blind since before dawn, waiting. As yet, nothing. I took a 10-point buck on opening Sunday of Indiana muzzle-loader season (15 Nov); since then there has been nothing at all. Not just for us, but for everyone. Numbers are way down for the season. It has been very frustrating, especially for Steve, who hasn't shot anything as of yet.

I count myself fortunate indeed to have Steve as a friend and hunting partner. I have eagerly learned a great deal in a few weeks; a process I hope continues not only for myself, but also for our sons as they grow and begin to learn to hunt.

As exciting as it has been, it has also been trying. What few deer we have seen have either been too far away for a shot, or it has been too dark to shoot effectively. I am currently sitting at the base of a dike, which walls a large ditch running north/south, with my back to a tree, one of the large patch of pin-oaks I am in. Some 75 yards to the south is a small creek, running east/west, which I jumped to get where I am. I am facing roughly northeast, with one eye along the dike, where Steve sits 100 yards to the north, and one eye east, deeper into the tall, wheat-colored grass lying between the oaks. A light fog holds among the denser thickets, and a light but steady rain continues to fall; the temperature seems to be dropping (thank goodness for the canopy of the chair blind).

The only shots I have heard have been the muted barks of the duck-hunters shotguns along the river, whose report echoes like a low, rumbling thunder. I need to get up and stretch for a minute."

After that stretch, I didn't add anything. I just sat, listening to the sounds of the woods, hoping to catch sight of venison on the hoof, but with no luck. We waited at that spot for another 90 minutes of so, then packed it in and went for breakfast. The afternoon hunt fared no better.