I had neglected to tell Marty about a little problem that I seem to have. On my first trip to Texas five years ago I managed to kill a small 50# hog. I have been back to Texas every year since, and had yet to draw my bow on another hog. It seems that I have some sort of hog jinx hanging over me since that first trip, and changing locations to Florida didn't seem to be changing things.
The sign around the feeders indicated that they were literally being hammered by hogs. Every kernel of corn was gone in the mornings, and I just knew it was a matter of time. On the second evening shortly after being dropped off I could hear thunder in the distance. The sky darkenend, and the rain came on.
I donned my rain gear to wait it out, and just as the rain let up to a drizzle, I looked behind me to see four nice eating size hogs working their way down the road toward me. As they closed to withing 20 yards, two of them eased into the palmentos. Suddenly, the remaining two turned and bolted back the way they had come, and the two from the palmentos quickly followed suit. What the heck? :confused: :confused:
The sound of a motor from the other direction explained it quickly. Thunder and lightning was still surrounding me, and Marty had been worried about safety. Being perched in a metal ladder stand during a lightning storm is not exactly where you want to be, even with hogs on their way in. Marty obviously didn't know they were there, and it was just my poor luck to have the timing work out the way it did. Or as it turned out, probably more like good fortune. As we rode off on the buggy the skies opened back up, and a solid down pour for the next couple of hours made me happy I had not gotten a shot. Even if it had resulted in a good hit, blood trailing would have been out of the question.
Marty felt terrible about messing up my opportunity, but really, I am happy that he did. I was just happy that he didn't have to feel bad about finding my sorry butt at the base of the tree fried by lightning.