- The rainy, freezing autumn view out of one of my ground blind windows
- Steve and I huddled up and being twinsy as usual
- My bow hanging from my handy new ground blind hanger (so my arrow tip doesn’t rest in the dirt)
- Steve with the muzzleloader – he brought it to the blind, along with his bow, in case he wanted to take a longer shot
- Trail back to the truck (love the view up this road) and Steve looking toward our “hilltop” hunting area, muzzleloader in hand
This trip reminded me of running – meaning, I love running, but sometimes a run is kind of awful and nothing feels very good and it’s a total slog. That’s how this hunt felt. It was drizzly and windy all morning. It was painfully cold and I didn’t see any deer to make me forget about being cold. I was also super sleepy and yet entirely too uncomfortable to really doze off – a combination which made me intensely cranky and even more exhausted.
All I could think of after was what we in the running community say about crappy runs: they make you appreciate the good ones all the more. I suppose all tough physical endeavors are like that, you know?
We were supposed to stay for an afternoon hunt, but the thought made me want to cry. We drove Steve’s dad back, then got ourselves home, where I relaxed and ordered pizza (yes I did) and got a good nine hours of sleep. Needed.
I know I keep saying we are optimistic for upcoming hunts, but these next few weekends are really key (peak of the rut and just after, all of which happen a little later here in Texas than they do elsewhere). I am anxious to see what we see.