Killdeer in the Wood

[bentpole]

Killy your words have the softness of a lullaby.I could read your words all day long.I can't wait for your next post. By the way is that one of your Morrisons in the picture by the tree?

[Killdeer]

The night wore on, my eyes grew tired and I shut off the lantern. The temperature fell, changing the slapping of raindrops into tense little tickings on the tent roof as the rain turned to ice.

Toward dawn, the winds kicked up, yanking tarp pegs from the soft soil around the cook shack. It got very cold.The wind kept up all day, one of those winds that has trees groaning and slapping each other with loose-hinged branches. I do not want to hunt in this wind. Snow showers came and went. I spent the day replacing yellow nylon tent pegs with steel vee-profile pegs around the cook shack, retying ropes and adding a few more rubber tie-downs. I cleared a little space, getting stuff organized. I set up the pregnant lady in the cookshack and read a little.

What the heck are you doing out there with a pregnant lady? you may well ask. Or...no I am too old for those shenanigans. The pregnant lady is a dear friend of mine. She stays in the cook shack and adds a bit of warmth and cheer to an otherwise dreary and utilitarian space. She will dry your gloves for you, make toast, and chase the chill out of your buttocks.

Picture two bright cherry red burners side by side. Below that, a red navel that you can twist right or left (it's an outie, because of her condition, you see.) over a twenty pound rounded pod of propane pregnancy. That is my beautiful campmate, the pregnant lady. Having had her along for ten or more hunts, she has gotten a bit trailworn, and her grating has burned away on the tops of the burners. I guess I will have to look for a replacement. I only hope the next one is as pretty.

Tomorrow is supposed to be colder. I hope that the wind blows away and gets lost tonight. Meanwhile, I read and experiment with this trip's weird food. I try something new each year.

Caviar is greatly overrated.    I would gladly trade a jar for a box of Little Debbie Nutty Bars. Maybe the expensive stuff is better.
Killdeer

[pine nut]

Dano, No she just proved my point. She understood me perfectly!

Pine Nut

[JEFF B]

lol!! killie you got a way with words gal.
jeff      

[Killdeer]

And I am SO glad that the Nutty Pine understood  me !
Killdeer~Morrison-made A&H ACS, 51# @ 26".
VVvvvviiiiiipppppppp!

[pine nut]

Perfectly. You made my day!
Pine Nut

[bentpole]

"The Virginia Woods Chronicles" or "The Virginia Woods according to Killdeer" You have to see about getting Published.Yep nice bow Killy I would have thought it to be a Dakota or a Cougar though nice job on the skins . She does shoot too I guess?

[ber643]

I can vouch for that Morrison Built ACS of Killies: Sweet, pretty, shooter - and, as she *"sound effect-ed", fffasssstttttttt.

* "VVvvvviiiiiipppppppp!"

[Killdeer]

Well, the wind is still a factor, but it is milder and taking a few breaks here and there. There is a skiff of snow on the ground and tent, and it is somewhere in the twenties. I stopped worrying about particulars years ago, and don't bring a thermometer.

I went up Buck Knob to the spot I sat on Columbus Day, near the old tumbled down stand where I used to sit evenings, watching the does come out like clockwork animation in the late afternoons. Until doe day, when they didn't come out at all. The stand's trees were half gone, and only a lone strut remained. I noticed another stand further into the woods-line there, constructed of plywood and old steel fencing stakes. The trees had grown around them, and it had seen its last occupant years ago. Beyond that, 15 yards from a rubbed-up laurel, was a climbing stand. Must belong to the fellow that I saw drive in on Monday. Bummer. That was the only clear buck sign that I had seen here so far, and I must leave it.  :(  

I bushwhacked my way slowly in the direction of camp, going through spruce and red pine woods laced with laurel. A year old rub raised my eyebrows, as it was on a very substantial trunk. Eventually I arrived back home, and left in the darkness to get propane. I bought out the stock in the little one-stop in town, ten one-pound bottles. Back at camp, getting colder out, I was living large, with the floor heater and a lantern going, sheepskins in the bedroll, and a good book.

 

Killdeer    Beat you to it, Bernie. Yes, it is a rugged place, and a rough camp, for suffering and privation is nourishment for the soul, building the infrastructure of character.

[adkmountainken]

love the old tree bark camo shirt!

[Falk]

holly molly! what kind of cathedral is this?!? I did not know anybody would be able to really stand upright in a tent ...!!!
 
Is it an old pocket watch (?word) what I see there hanging in the background?

All together this pic reminds me of a muselman fairytale: "princess on a pea" (?spelling)     :D

[Littlefeather]

There is no greater pleasure than a warm and comfy tent on a very cold night. That pic kinda makes me think back to the hunt me and Charlie did with Roughcountry a couple years ago. Very nice! Carry-on. CK

[Stone Knife]

Looks nice and roomy in there, comfy also  

[Killdeer]

Falk, I referenced that fairy tale in my journal many years ago...I will have to dredge that one up for you. The watch is a mid-fifties Hamilton 992B. Railroad grade, very accurate.

LF, I am kinda cringing as I write this, because I think of Rough Country as a REAL hunter, who goes into REAL wilderness and toughs out some very REAL hardships. You mean he is a REAL candya33 like me?  :confused:  

Killdeer~working on pics right now.

[Killdeer]

It turned into Thursday in the middle of the night. I decided to do some scouting in newer areas. I had been to Bearwallow a couple of times, maybe the sign would be better there. I hopped into the truck. I got up the hill and turned onto a logging road. Then I turned around because a little voice whispered, "White Oak Flat."

They called it White Oak Flat, those who had made the trek, and they said that it was a fair and deery place full of mast and wildlife. In my twenty-second season up there, I supposed that I should take a look.

At a switchback, I parked at a closed gate, locked the truck and slung my quiver over my shoulder. The little K-Mag was light and happy in my hand. I started down the trail that led from West Virginia to Virginia, and points east. I had walked this trail before, one Memorial Day weekend, with Mockingbird. We saw hordes of salamanders, dusky orange lined with black-ringed blaze orange spots, some of them olive, with the same spots. Columbine and wild geraniums bloomed among the bugbane and maidenhair ferns, and under the pines, in damp creeksides, the polygala paucifolia, looking for all the world like 1940s toy airplanes. Or sneezing moths, take your pick.

 

The spring flowers were replaced with the asters and everlastings of fall, now. The ferns were mostly fallen and sere, smelling faintly of cinnamon and sweetgrass. The cold had driven the salamanders to ground, the youngsters still in the ponds and sluggish places in the creeks.The day warmed, life was good, and I came to the old chestnut shelter that had fallen to ruin years ago. The oldest date that I could find was 1900, which made it older than the one that the Forest Service had destroyed through neglect back at camp.

 

Killdeer~got poofs?

[JEFF B]

i like that bow killie mostly the wolf hair on the string.      

[Killdeer]

I was still in West Virginia, and needed to get to my own state in order to be legal. I followed a trail up hill and eastward, which got me onto the fabled flat. On reaching the top, I checked the topo map again to get a feel for where the state line was.

 

I never did get around to packing the mini tripod in a pocket, but there are always stumps and rocks. This time I propped the camera in a stump. The map said I had to turn south and go a hundred yards or so. I did, and began to explore with abandon.

They should have named it Red Oak Flat, for I was hard pressed to find a single white oak. There were some monster trees there, though. This red spruce measured 48" across, a couple of feet up from the ground. How do I know that? I carried a K-Mag.    

 

This red oak was of the same dimensions. While not the biggest oak I have seen in the woods, its presence was imposing and impressive. You couldn't help but notice it, and I felt that it was watching me. Maybe it was the squirrels who must live in all the hidey-holes it had.

 

Killdeer

[Killdeer]

Maple trees mixed with white and mountain ash and cherries balanced out the mix, but I don't think I saw any hickories. I didn't find any cherries on the ground, nor were they still in the trees. I think the drought got 'em, or the flowers got frozen. I went to the eastern edge of the ridge to see what I could see. More mountains! Found three deer beds.Looked like a doe and two fawns.

 

I ate lunch overlooking the valley to the east. Watched a young raccoon forage as I savored the finest dates I ever tasted. Eating dates was far more interesting to me than flailing down the hilside to skewer some poor coon that I would have to carry back up.

 

 


Killdeer

[Roughcountry]

Love the way you weave the words Kathy. Still looking for a good photographer.

CK, that picture reminded me of the same thing, only no mud in the door of the tent.

Kathy, our snow where I'm hunting is right at my knee and getting worse. I'm fast becoming a candy a$$$!

Please continue with your magic my friend. RS

[Killdeer]

I could just imagine watching a well-hit monster buck doing a mad dash and at last, heaving himself down the slide. I don't own a come-along.

Killdeer