The Ranch we would be hunting this trip was Jerry's personal hunting property that is a highly managed 3700 acres of low fence. The deer here are huge, wide racked, Muy Grandes that this area is famed for. The trip was a two fold trip for me. I was going to hunt, have fun, and share the experience with Marvin McFarlan but also do some scouting for the famed Muy Grande.
This years deer season is holding one golden opportunity for a lucky bowhunter. Jerry will be offering up one hunt to a bowhunter that will last a total of 10 days. The hunt will include a trophy Whitetail, unlimited hogs, and two javalina. I was scouting for a couple of prospective clients.
As Thursday evenings Sunset neared, I dawned some scrubby looking camo and headed off in a Westerly direction. Jerry had showed me some likely locations to ambush game and tonights sit would find me in one of those locations. The ride was bumpy and dusty as I eased the Ford through the paint scratching trails better know in South Texas as Senderos. As I crept forward over a ridge, I located a spot to park. My heart rate increased with every step I took toward tonights hunting location. I tried to imagine the events that may unfold as this evening raced toward darkness but my thoughts just ran together like melting snow and my breath grew shallow.
Once I snuggled into the short tripod at the intersection of three openings, I pulled my camera from my pack. It was hard to find a spot to hand my gear here, with my only surroundings being the tiny, sparse, Mesquite tree that was to conceal me. As expected, the sit was very short before game started to move in the cooling, evening temperatures. At first I only saw quail and bunnies but that was all to change. With the crack of a twig, I was snapped from a daydream back to reality. A small, velvet, forkhorn emerged and passed my location without a worry in the world. He never knew the closeness of which he'd just passed a viscious predator. The deer was the first but most certainly not the last. I believe the count for the evening stood at nine deer. All had passed within easy bow range and all had passed with the unsuspecting attitude as the forkhorn. It is always an honor and a compliment to be allowed to become such a part of nature that nature itsself passes without any recognition of my presence. That is the biggest compliment I could ever be presented.
The deer came and went as the evening drew closer to an end. I became lazy and relaxed as I watched the last few deer browse the area. Without any warning, the deer exploded in a panic, snorting and blowing like they believed the World was ending. I couldn't imagine what had frightened the deer to such a lever of sheer panic. Maybe if I sit quietly the brush will offer up the offender? And offer him up it did!
With the same unsuspecting demeanor as the deer had passed my location, several Illegal Mexican Migrants slowly started past. As I watched them pass, I couldn't help but let them know how close to danger they had been. I rudely let them know of my presence and in the explosion of excitment, several of the men found themselves with freshly deposited cactus thorns and soiled undergarments. Im not sure if they ever found each other again in the dense, unforgiving underbrush but if they did, I'd have loved to hear the tales they told of the little, camo'd, Rambo that had so unsuspectedly interrupted their journey to the Promised Land.
As I cranked the diesel and headed the Ford back across the darkness to my first night at camp, I found a satisfaction deep within. I felt quite at home here and felt at one with the country. This is surely where I belong. It is the place that I long for when I am away. I could hardly imagine getting any sleep tonight. The excitment of what tomorrow may hold stirred me and the thought of the hunts ahead swirrled in my head. Morning is but a few hours away. CK
Topic: Footprints in the sand (Read 15301 times)
