HUNTING JOURNAL- DAY 9
4:00am- Wake out of a sound sleep. Wierd dreams about a giant hour glass. I lay there contemplating whether or not I want to get up.
4:30am- Alarm goes off. Hit it and try to go back to sleep.
5:15am- Give up and get up. Coffee. 42 degrees and cloudy. No wind. NPR news- Top Storys: #1- U.S. and Israel are pressuring the world banking community to freeze out the Hamas government, hoping to get them to give up their terrorist ways. Obviously the Palestinians are not the good credit risk Nazi Germany was for the Swiss bankers a generation ago. Not enough drug and munitions factorys in Gaza? Story #2- Freakazoid David Blaine doesn't hold his breath long enough to break the world record of 8 mins. 28 secs., after staying in a ball of water for a week. I think I saw a floatable drift by. My finger tips get wrinkly just listening
5:35am- Walk behind the school house. Hear one gobble twice on back ridge but then he shuts up. I call a couple of times but he doesn't answer. Three deer are feeding in a field and I think of what GNJohn told me yesterday about RNSpanky's plans to buy Ray Gilkey's property and mine it for gravel and sand. I think that's what I was dreaming about before I woke up. It makes me sick to my stomach just to think about it. The rich care nothing for ancient game trails and eagle nests. I'll never understand how....wait. Did you hear that? There it is again. He's close.
6:15am-I make a couple of calls and he roars back. He's on top of the ridge and coming down. I catch sight of the bird in full strut, gliding through the woods like a feathery beach ball. I drag the striker softly across the slate and he answers every yelp. I'm on the edge of a field. Then I lose sight of him as he descends towards me. The deer raise their heads at the ruckus, then lift their tails and shit. The tom hits the field all puffed up, stretching his neck out and gobbling. His head turns from red to white to blue, then back to white. What a show! I've put whiteout on my front sight, but my eyes are no better. It's still blurry but at least brighter. I breathe deeply and steady the gun on my knee. As he steps out from behind a tree and gobbles one more time, I pull the trigger.
6:50am- Weigh bird and hang him in the tree behind the kitchen. 20lbs. 8 inch beard. Write blog. Second cup of coffee. End Day nine.
4:30am- Alarm goes off. Hit it and try to go back to sleep.
5:15am- Give up and get up. Coffee. 42 degrees and cloudy. No wind. NPR news- Top Storys: #1- U.S. and Israel are pressuring the world banking community to freeze out the Hamas government, hoping to get them to give up their terrorist ways. Obviously the Palestinians are not the good credit risk Nazi Germany was for the Swiss bankers a generation ago. Not enough drug and munitions factorys in Gaza? Story #2- Freakazoid David Blaine doesn't hold his breath long enough to break the world record of 8 mins. 28 secs., after staying in a ball of water for a week. I think I saw a floatable drift by. My finger tips get wrinkly just listening
5:35am- Walk behind the school house. Hear one gobble twice on back ridge but then he shuts up. I call a couple of times but he doesn't answer. Three deer are feeding in a field and I think of what GNJohn told me yesterday about RNSpanky's plans to buy Ray Gilkey's property and mine it for gravel and sand. I think that's what I was dreaming about before I woke up. It makes me sick to my stomach just to think about it. The rich care nothing for ancient game trails and eagle nests. I'll never understand how....wait. Did you hear that? There it is again. He's close.
6:15am-I make a couple of calls and he roars back. He's on top of the ridge and coming down. I catch sight of the bird in full strut, gliding through the woods like a feathery beach ball. I drag the striker softly across the slate and he answers every yelp. I'm on the edge of a field. Then I lose sight of him as he descends towards me. The deer raise their heads at the ruckus, then lift their tails and shit. The tom hits the field all puffed up, stretching his neck out and gobbling. His head turns from red to white to blue, then back to white. What a show! I've put whiteout on my front sight, but my eyes are no better. It's still blurry but at least brighter. I breathe deeply and steady the gun on my knee. As he steps out from behind a tree and gobbles one more time, I pull the trigger.
6:50am- Weigh bird and hang him in the tree behind the kitchen. 20lbs. 8 inch beard. Write blog. Second cup of coffee. End Day nine.
posted by mike osterhout at 8:05 AM
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