Well I'm in from the shop so here we go again.
Let see we were just getting to saturday morning and navel contiplation.
Stand hunting is feast or famine. You either have critters or you are getting a dead butt waiting fo them to come. I really don't like it and would rather be spot and stalking. Anyway I arrived at my stand just before daylight with Gerald and his hotrod corn feeder. Things were nice and cool and damp. A perfect morning for pigs. In fact we saw three sounders of pigs on the way in.
But here I sat, nothing happening til about 8:30 when a very nice axis buck decided to give me a show for five minutes. Then nothing. I baled out of the blind at 10:30 when the sun got heated up and I knew the pigs were down for the day.
James was up the road about 300 yds and had the same luck only instead of axis he had goats and buffalo. Said one of em was a real dandy too.
We walked and talked and headed for the double bull hoping Shona and Jason had a better morning. Goats and fallow deer were the story there so things were not as planned. Shona said that jason was a jinx and that she was with Connie from then on.
Shona headed for the bunkhouse and the three of us headed up the road to check on Terry and Connie. Along the way we spotted a 30 # pig and James and Jason tried to get an arrow though a hole in the brush. I stood back and laughed as the arrows hit mesquite sounding like whitetail bucks in a death battle.
Soon the pig headed for less noisy parts and the boys crawled around to retreive the arrows. many scratches and pokes were encounterd.
We were back on our way poking fun at the shooting skill and enjoying the sunshine. We rounded the corner to see Terrys tripod. Hmmmmmm thing were different here. There were pretty bouquets of blue fletching in a couple of places around the clearing. Shurly Terry couldn't have emptied his quiver. But alas he told of the ironclad pig that sailed in and munched corn while he passed him up. High then low then left only to have the pig sniff the arraws and walk off. Kinda humbling when they do that. . .no respect.
Connie was another 250 yds up the road and around a corner. The pigs new better then to give her a chance and they avoided her shot lanes like the plague.. They must have heard that she had missed all ready this year and that someone was fixen to die.
We hit camp and Jason made b'fast. We sat around and shot the campbull and shot the new windtalker bows.
We also did some knapping (napping) About 3:30 we made a little dinner (wild boar and mushroom stroganoff) and prepared for the evening hunt.
Mike