Nailed

Putting this hunt in perspective, winter started 5 days ago and this fall, we’ve only enjoyed two cold snaps with freezing temps. Being a 5th generation Texan, I call myself a ‘flatlander’, have thin blood, am adverse to cold and cold to me is 45. But like most men, a little self-punishment is good for the body.

Monday morning in Mills County, Texas was foggy, the temp was 27 and it was way too cold to go sit in a blind, but Monday afternoon was different. It was cloudy, 34 degrees with a southeast wind of 10-15 MPH, and a wind chill of around 23. Rather than stay in by the nice warm fire, I decided to go hunting and try to shoot a big doe and I picked a tree stand overlooking a small food plot. Since the deer have over grazed the plot and we’ve had very little rain in the past 2 months, I use the term, food plot, as a description only!

With my .270 unloaded, climbing up into the stand, I was about 15/16th in and just sliding into the seat when I saw movement on the edge of the plot and I froze. About 80 yards away, a yearling doe picked that time to came out and browse a little. Not being able to move, I felt kinda’ silly “half in and half out’, but all I could do was just remain in that cramped position.

Then out comes a big doe, a shooter, obviously the yearling’s mom, and she starts grazing. No scent problem since the cold wind is off of the deer, blowing into my face and both of them have their rear ends toward me and as I ‘scrooch’ down into the seat, up go their tails and they bolt off! The sound of cloth on cloth must have spooked them.

Finally loading my rifle and tying my camera to a convenient limb, I settle in and wait for another doe or a good picture. Being ‘bucked out’ since the 8th day of the season all I can shoot are does and we have plenty of them!

The longer I sit, the colder I get. The wind ‘finds’ every crack and space in my garb, even the eyes of my shoelaces. Of course, being cold and thinking about it only makes me ‘more’ colder. My thoughts race – “Maybe another doe won’t come by?” “Maybe not even a picture opportunity?” “Maybe it’s too cold to even clean one?”

Just then a spike comes out of a trail not 20 yards to my front and turns and stares at me. He must be thinking, “What in the world are you doing out in this weather?”

As he ambles on down the trail, I answer that question for him, climb out of the stand and head back to my Jeep. No deer today, and as my Dad said many years ago, “Boy, don’t worry about today’s bad hunt. Just remember if it was easy each time out, it would be called shooting instead of hunting!”