Day 2

I slept reasonably well in the front seat of my Chevy Silverado on Saturday night.  I’m certain it was much more comfortable than had I been sleeping in the tent, fighting the wind and the rain.  My alarm didn’t go off, but I awoke at around 5:30, and with the wind still howling and rain coming even harder, there was not much stirring of hunters going to the field.  I decided that if somebody came and got me, I’d ride along, but I wasn’t going to voluntarily go out on Sunday morning.  I’m sure somebody would have let me borrow a vehicle, but the warmth of my truck cab sure seemed more appealing! 

I finally exited the pickup at around 9:30.  The other hunters in camp were just now beginning to show signs of activity, and I could tell by the pickups left in camp that nobody else had braved the wind and rain either.  Kavin and Debi Vann invited everybody into their camper for an awesome breakfast of bacon, sausage, eggs, biscuits and gravy!  It was just what we all needed to lift our sagging spirits!  We stayed in the Vann’s camper telling hunting stories for most of the rest of the morning.  The inactivity was more than I could handle though, so I decided I would pay $3 for a shower so that when the wind and rain let up I’d be ready to head right out to the field.  While at the Hopper’s headquarters waiting for the shower, I asked if any cabins had opened up, and the lady indicated that she did have one available, and it even had a new air conditioner in it!  After the shower, I discussed it with my fellow tent dwellers, and we figured the $40 was quite a bargain if it would get us out of the wind.  Jason paid the $40 and we quickly moved our gear inside the cabin, fired up the burners on the stove, and enjoyed the warmth and shelter.  The rain and wind never gave any indication that it would let up, but knowing that we would be able to return to the warmth of the cabin gave extra incentive to fight the cold wind and rain for the evening hunt.  

Paul returned to his ground blind, which would provide shelter from the rain.  Martin and I dropped Jason off at Paul’s quadpod, and then drove another half mile to the area we were hunting.  As we were walking in, we jumped a doe from a clearing along the right of way on which we were walking.  It was across the right of way from the trail on which Martin was hunting.  I decided to set up my ICE Blind on the opposite end of the clearing, just off the edge of the right of way.  After setting up the blind and brushing it in, I got inside and started situating my gear so that I would have easy access to my bow, my backpack, rattle bag and grunt tube while I was hunting.  As I grabbed the grunt tube from the backpack, I made a few soft grunts on it, then put it around my neck.  I sat back in my chair, and then realized that I couldn’t see down the right of way to my left or right because I had set the blind up between two clumps of vines and brush, and that by the time I would be able to see a deer, it would be directly in front of the blind in the small shooting lane.  It would be difficult to get my bow, draw and get off a shot while the deer was in the lane.  Since it was still early, I got out of the blind and started stomping down the brush and the tall grass.  Satisfied that I would now be able to see a deer approaching from my right before it entered the shooting lane, I decided to do the same to the left.  Just as I stepped around the front of the ICE Blind, I looked up and was staring face-to-face with a big chocolate horned buck!  We stared at each other for what seemed like hours, but was probably about 20 or 30 seconds.  He turned his head a couple of times to look back in the brush, and when he looked away the third time, I ducked back behind the blind.  As I did, I watched him turn and trot back away down the right of way.  Hoping against hope, I got back inside the blind, readied my bow, and attempted to softly grunt him back in.  It was a futile effort, though, as the buck was not going to have anything to do with that area again.  I saw a small forkhorn or six point later in the evening, but he never came into range.  I’m still kicking myself over that missed opportunity at a fine buck, but who’s to say he would have ever come in had I not been “crashing” around in the brush.  He obviously thought I was another buck hooking trees in his territory and came in to investigate.  It was still a thrilling experience, one that very few hunters, other than bowhunters, can appreciate! 

Martin had a close encounter, or two, of his own.  He had set up Casey’s Swivel Limb in a branch of the tree across from where he had originally set his Strong Built.  He left the Strong Built up so that he could use it as a footrest for the Swivel Limb.  After a couple of hours in the Swivel Limb, he became uncomfortable and decided to cross over to the platform stand to sit for a while.  After about 30 minutes, he became uncomfortable in the Strong Built, and decided to go back to the Swivel Limb.  Before moving over, he glanced down the three trails that intersected near his stand.  Satisfied that there were no deer on the trails, he stepped across to the Swivel Limb.  As he did, he heard a ruckus below him, and when he looked down, spotted a small buck that had apparently snuck in behind him and was standing directly below him when he decided to move!  The buck ran through the thick tangle of brush behind Martin, and Martin could just watch helplessly as the buck finally made his way into the cover.

But his excitement for the evening didn’t end there!  He didn’t see any other deer for the rest of the evening.   He was sitting in the Swivel Limb, and as darkness began to fall on the refuge, Martin glanced at his watch.  It was 7:15, and legal shooting time ended at 7:35.  He decided to give it a few more minutes before he started gathering his gear.  Less than a minute later, he glanced down the trail to his left, then turned to check the trail behind him.  He rotated on the Swivel Limb to his right, and even though he intended to stop turning when he could see the trail, the treestand just kept right on rotating around the tree, until it was hanging upside down on the back side of the branch!  It dumped Martin right out of the seat, but fortunately he was able to grab hold of the seat with his left arm, leaving him dangling above the ground about 10 feet up!  His bow had dropped, but because he had his release attached to the string, and the release strapped to his wrist, the bow didn’t fall to the ground, although the arrow popped off and fell harmlessly below.  Martin managed to pull himself back up on the limb, avoiding injury.  As he told the story back at camp, we all laughed along with him as he recounted the events, but the humor was tempered by the reality of what could have happened.  It certainly speaks to the wisdom of always wearing a safety belt when hunting from an elevated position, something I must admit I’m guilty of more times than not. 

	The dry, warm cabin was a welcome relief to the wet, windblown hunters as we all returned from our Saturday evening hunt.  Paul had another opportunity to shoot a hog, but again passed on the shot.   Shortly after our return, Kavin, Debi, Daniel, T.J. (and his two buddies), Clayton Ardoin and his brother, and most of Team Showboat joined Paul, Jason, Martin, Curtis and me inside the cabin for a dinner and celebration of Kavin’s upcoming 40th birthday!  Clayton and his brother had prepared one of the best meals I’ve ever had at a deer camp, or anywhere for that matter!
It was a Cajun dish called Sauce Picon (sp?) that the Ardoins fixed, and as Kavin so eloquently put it, if you were to put it on your head, you’d end up with two black eyes because of your tounge beating you up trying to get to it!  Of course, Team Showboat brought libations of their own, and we all had a great time enjoying the food, drink and company!
Paul Schwander tells us why all hunters should take an IBEP Course!	Place your own caption here!