As The Wind Howls
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We've got a cold front coming in and the N-NW wind is gusting outside. Weather like this, at this time of year reminds me of all the evenings I've spent in a deer camp. Ranging from a big old army tent to a tin shack to a travel trailer or old house trailer, those camps had several things in common.
When you've been out in the cold all day, the wonders of a hot cup of coffee, a bowl of steaming stew or a crackling fire put the world into perspective. To be dry, to be warm, to have your belly full and to have a halfway comfortable place to sleep, what more do you really need? Count yourself blessed, if you also have a group of friends to swap stories and lies with, as you all sit around the fire or stove and sip a wee bit of adult beverage before rolling into your soogans.
One last check of your boots, clothes, fanny pack and rifle, before the lights or the Coleman lantern is doused. You let the wind whistle you to sleep and hope it lays before daybreak.
If it does, it'll be a good hunt in the morning.
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We've got a cold front coming in and the N-NW wind is gusting outside. Weather like this, at this time of year reminds me of all the evenings I've spent in a deer camp. Ranging from a big old army tent to a tin shack to a travel trailer or old house trailer, those camps had several things in common.
When you've been out in the cold all day, the wonders of a hot cup of coffee, a bowl of steaming stew or a crackling fire put the world into perspective. To be dry, to be warm, to have your belly full and to have a halfway comfortable place to sleep, what more do you really need? Count yourself blessed, if you also have a group of friends to swap stories and lies with, as you all sit around the fire or stove and sip a wee bit of adult beverage before rolling into your soogans.
One last check of your boots, clothes, fanny pack and rifle, before the lights or the Coleman lantern is doused. You let the wind whistle you to sleep and hope it lays before daybreak.
If it does, it'll be a good hunt in the morning.
@Jolly said in As The Wind Howls:
When you've been out in the cold all day, the wonders of a hot cup of coffee, a bowl of steaming stew or a crackling fire put the world into perspective.
Ain't that the truth. Not exactly hunting, but two days ago we had a wickedly cold wind come in, even ripped a few things apart in the backyard which I had to run out and wrangle. Even had a piece of sheet metal fly by which gave me a good cut in the arm. Anyway, after coming back in and my arms numb (I didn't have a jacket on), I made a nice hot bowl of chili.
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I bloody hate winter. Sorry, but I do. I used to somewhat enjoy it before everything hurt.
One of our dogs (the hairy one) stands around quite happily in the freezing cold. The other one has more sense.
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Dogs in the cold...
I think it's just a Southern thing, but I grew up with folks that kept hunting dogs.
Some had deer hounds. Lyin' Walkers, the kind of hound that was bad about cold trailing or over-sounding and when they hit a deer would push him fast and far. We've killed deer almost five miles from where they were jumped. I liked redbones better. Good, choppy voices with better noses. Hunting deer with fast hounds is like trying to shoot a piece of flying, jumping, brown spaghetti, as the deer bounds through the woods. And you better make good your shot. If you miss, you get your shirt tail cut off.
Some had rabbit hounds. My MIL's family used to gather up on Chrstmas morning right after the kids opened their presents and make a big rabbit hunt. The little beagles working through the fencerows and briar patches, tails wagging excitedly with an occasional yip, then a cacophony of yelps, barks and howls when they jumped.
I'm not a duck hunter. Oh, I've shot a few squealers in the timber by the bayou, but I never could see why a man would wade through mud and water in the sleet, just to sit in a duck blind and kill a few ducks, when you could freeze your butt off thirty feet up a tree, waiting on a 180 pound deer to saunter by. I had a cousin that was crazy about duck hunting, though. He was mighty good with retrievers and when he retired, that was his new business. Mostly labs, but he was the go-to guy for Chessies. Not many people hunt Chessies, but if you're in big water, they're gold. OTOH, my nephew duck hunts flooded timber a lot, working out of his pirouge with a three-legged Blue Heeler. So maybe a good duck dog is where you find it.
Coon hounds? Made a few hunts with guys that had blue ticks or back&tans. Knew one preacher in Crowville that raised treeing redbones. It's funny how well a good hound man can tell you exactly what is dog is doing by what he hears. If they're hunting a mixed pack, every person can identify his dog by the sound.
Bird dogs? Don't have the quail we used to, so I never hunted with bird dogs. Only knew a couple guys that kept them.
What does all of the above have in common? Well, guys raise, keep and train these dogs all year, just to hunt with them for a few weeks. Now, it's in the middle of the different hunting seasons. Pickups, dog boxes, guns, coffee bottles, mud and dogs in the cold...
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Do you think the local wildlife is safe?
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That one on the right has bugle dog in him. He might hunt.
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@Jolly said in As The Wind Howls:
That one on the right has bugle dog in him. He might hunt.
She's been really, really fur-in-the-mouth close to catching quite a few rabbits and did something unspeakable to a mouse. Oddly enough she managed to pick up two chipmunks without damaging them at all.
She would love hunting a lot more than me.
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If you’ve been around working dogs of many types it’s quite impressive just how much they know by breeding. My Gordon just barely failed his junior hunter with no training at all, and only because he flushed a hair too early. But he found the quail and pointed perfectly.
