By Sherman Shifflett
When the alarm clock went off at 4:30 AM Saturday morning, I rolled over and thought, “I’m 77 years old, retired. I don’t have to do this anymore.”
But, oh yes I do. The primal urge to hunt and the call of the wild are strong motivators. So, I “un-assed that cot” as they used to say in the Army.
With only four hours of sleep, I was dragging. I attended the Louisa-Orange football game on Friday night and it took some time to wind down after getting home. It was about 12:30 AM when I dozed off.
Greg Barlow (hunting buddy for 40+ years) and his son Terrell agreed to meet me at the staging area to hunt on a farm near Cuckoo. It’s just two miles from my house, but I still had to hustle. All three of us were in the tree stand before dawn. Good thing I wore a medium-heavy coat, because the temperature was 46 degrees and the wind was swirling.
This was a big change from 95-plus degree weather we suffered through earlier in the week.
At dawn, a flock of raucous crows and obnoxious blue jays (two birds I detest) made their presence known. Nothing else was stirring, not even a field mouse. Later, I saw some towhees, birds that generally prefer higher elevations, but have adapted to the flat lands. Around 8:30 AM, a squirrel was foraging through the leaves, looking for acorns. Plenty of mast this year.
Because of the swirling winds, the deer were not moving. Deer can detect sudden changes in the weather and adjust their habits accordingly. Perhaps they fed the night before. I remained in the tree stand until 10:00 AM, then went home for a break.
Later, the wind calmed down, temps rose to 60-65, and I returned to the farm around 3:30 PM. I decided to use a different tree stand. No wind, but also no action for the next 1 1/2 hours, except for a catbird. I used to have them at home, but they abandoned me.
At 5:00 PM a long, lean slick head poked her head out of the cut-over, looked all around and started feeding in the bean field. I used my range finder, and she was 221 yards from my stand. She meandered across the field and disappeared over a hill. Fifteen minutes later, three more does came up the hill and looked at the spot where the first doe had emerged from the cut-over. Out walked a small buck, still dressed in his summer red coat. The other deer were gray. He fed in the soybeans and he too disappeared over the hill. By this time it was nearly 6:00 PM. I kept thinking, “What’s the attraction over the hill?” It’s just more bean fields. About dark, another small buck tip-toed into the bean field and fed. He didn’t seem interested in “Going over the hill.” Had this been rifle season, I could have nailed him with my Ruger .30-06
Darkness was creeping in and decided to leave. I checked the bean field once again, and I’ll be damned if a small black bear didn’t walk out into the field, 75 yards away. I wasn’t really afraid because I was packing a S&W .357 mag, but to be honest, I did not want to tangle with a bruin in the darkness. I booked for my 4-wheeler. Near the 4-wheeler, I saw two more deer in another bean field, 150 yards away. They didn’t spook.
Terrell nailed a doe.
Did I have a successful hunt ? Absolutely ! I saw several deer; I saw a flock of wild turkeys; I saw a bear.
No backstrap, but it’s not about killing. It’s the adventure. It’s seeing wildlife. It’s about enjoying the great outdoors. It’s watching the sun rise. It’s the memories. Good fellowship.
That’s what it is all about !