Ah yes, the last morning... don't you just hate the sound of that?
Seems like a guy just gets warmed up and it's time to stop. With more time needed to make more stories and enough time gone by to not remember all the storie there are to recall.
I tried real hard to remember every detail, and every story,but I failed miserably (like I almost always do).
My "hide" for the last hunt was a fiberglass box blind. I have to tell you it was very comfortable in side, out of the wind and the cold.
Pretty stealthy too, except for the fact that the most comfortable chair (there were two) was also the noisiest...every now and then when you'd shift your weight a little the chair let go with a resounding "POW" as something in the chair shifted.
I put up with that until the second time it happened before switching to the less comfortable but much more quiet chair.
I wasn't expecting much in the way of game, though I suspect that was more mental than actual.
The spot looked like it could be a winner for hogs as a small spring fed creek tumbled through the rocks nearby.
In the end I had one very nice buck come through the clearing and several does were seen at a distance. Still in hunt mode, I pondered that the buck and the does seemed to be headed for the same spot along the creek. I wondered what could be down there.
At this point in time it mattered not.
Soon the truck would arrive to take me back to camp and my least favorite part of any hunt... the good byes.
As in many past hunts I would be leaving with more friends than I came with... always a good thing.
I'd worry over who I had forgotten (or just overlooked) to say good bye to. It's the way I am.
Each and every man on that hunt had become a good friend and I sure as hell didn't want to offend anyone.
I'd end up worrying about that most of the way home.
Like I said earlier, I tried to remember every story and every detail, but in the end they would come to me one at a time and out of the clear blue when some sight or sound or smell triggered a memory.
What I took away with me was the memory of every smile in camp and I guess after all that is the good stuff.