"Uncle Dean, I just couldn't sleep last night!"
Dec 1, 2019 14:53:17 GMT -5
Woody Williams, 36fan, and 19 more like this
Post by HighCotton on Dec 1, 2019 14:53:17 GMT -5
That was the comment I heard from my nephew Saturday morning. We had hunted the evening before on the LaPorte county farm. A few minutes before I shot a fine doe, I heard him shoot. I've been mentoring him in the crazy disease of whitetail madness that afflicts a lot of us for the past few years. He's reached the point where he can handle everything from scouting to the shot to the processor. But, we are never too old to learn. He got so carried away that he decided to build up his own AR in 6.5 Grendel.
Shortly after we sounded off with our thundersticks, we met halfway at the CRP strip. After dragging my doe out and dressing her, we hoofed into the briars and multi-flora to search for his deer. By now it was dark so flashlights and headlamps were in order. As so many of you can share from experience, the longer we looked the longer his frown.
In the dark of the night, he became totally disoriented at different times. Then the yotes started howling a few hundred yards away. I could tell by his body language and the look in his eyes that this was getting to be a bit too unnerving.
So we stopped and sat on a downed tree and we took a break at my insistence. I proceeded to tell him the proverbial "this happens to all of us" line. It didn't seem too comforting to him. As we looked at each others arms and faces, we got a good laugh, noting that the thorns had bloodied us more than gutting my doe!
I then told him the best thing to do is to come back in the morning. "The daylight might help us and we'll do a bit of a grid search", I said. "At 34 degrees, the deer should be fine as long as none of the night creatures would get hold of it."
I explained, as I had a few times in the past, that I wanted him to be a good woodsman, first and foremost and the right thing to do was to come back in the morning and renew our search. We owe that to the deer.
Not a happy departure, we each went our way.
As I was heading to the farm Saturday morning, I got a call. Yep, he couldn't wait until I got there and had started the search early.
With enthusiasm in his voice, he shouted over the phone, "I found it!"
The deer was some 30 yards back in the thickest thorn bushes he'd ever seen. I told him I'd been there before and the best thing for him to do was to get a long strap, belly crawl to the deer and slipknot the neck. Then, start reelin' and draggin'!
By the time I arrived he was close to the field. We hugged and high-fived each other! It turned out to be a button buck, but we both felt like it was a trophy after the ordeal. Nothing had gotten the deer in the night. I grabbed a water for him and told him to take a break while I gutted the deer. The 6.5 Grendel had obliterated the heart!
I said, "Why didn't you wait til I got out here to help you?"
That's when he replied, "Uncle Dean, I just couldn't sleep last night!"
I simply told him, "Son, keep that attitude and mindset the rest of your days! You're a fine hunter and woodsman!"
Shortly after we sounded off with our thundersticks, we met halfway at the CRP strip. After dragging my doe out and dressing her, we hoofed into the briars and multi-flora to search for his deer. By now it was dark so flashlights and headlamps were in order. As so many of you can share from experience, the longer we looked the longer his frown.
In the dark of the night, he became totally disoriented at different times. Then the yotes started howling a few hundred yards away. I could tell by his body language and the look in his eyes that this was getting to be a bit too unnerving.
So we stopped and sat on a downed tree and we took a break at my insistence. I proceeded to tell him the proverbial "this happens to all of us" line. It didn't seem too comforting to him. As we looked at each others arms and faces, we got a good laugh, noting that the thorns had bloodied us more than gutting my doe!
I then told him the best thing to do is to come back in the morning. "The daylight might help us and we'll do a bit of a grid search", I said. "At 34 degrees, the deer should be fine as long as none of the night creatures would get hold of it."
I explained, as I had a few times in the past, that I wanted him to be a good woodsman, first and foremost and the right thing to do was to come back in the morning and renew our search. We owe that to the deer.
Not a happy departure, we each went our way.
As I was heading to the farm Saturday morning, I got a call. Yep, he couldn't wait until I got there and had started the search early.
With enthusiasm in his voice, he shouted over the phone, "I found it!"
The deer was some 30 yards back in the thickest thorn bushes he'd ever seen. I told him I'd been there before and the best thing for him to do was to get a long strap, belly crawl to the deer and slipknot the neck. Then, start reelin' and draggin'!
By the time I arrived he was close to the field. We hugged and high-fived each other! It turned out to be a button buck, but we both felt like it was a trophy after the ordeal. Nothing had gotten the deer in the night. I grabbed a water for him and told him to take a break while I gutted the deer. The 6.5 Grendel had obliterated the heart!
I said, "Why didn't you wait til I got out here to help you?"
That's when he replied, "Uncle Dean, I just couldn't sleep last night!"
I simply told him, "Son, keep that attitude and mindset the rest of your days! You're a fine hunter and woodsman!"
