Solo mission. Well, almost solo. Solo with the exception of two ptarmagin hungry dogs. These guys refuse to let me go alone and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
But the business was serious. Clearing the head, scouting for deer/elk/bear and whatever else nature had to offer us. She never seems to disappoint. At approximately 6:15am we were bombarded by a squadron ptarmagin that seemed to care less about two salivating hunting dogs just beginning me to release them for the retrieve. I’m pretty sure I saw a Department of Wildlife brochure under one such bird’s wing. They know the season and I can guarantee when I’m back up here in a month, they won’t be.
So we sat. And sat some more. I’m a starting to come to terms with what big game hunting really is. Break your back and burn your legs until you can see the fat sizzling, then sit on your ass for a few days while drinking enough coffee to give a horse a heart attack. Attempting to stave off sleep by alternating between glassing and reading “Think and Grow Rich”, by Napoleon Hill, wasn’t helping my situation.