One of the wonderful things about living in rural America, especially where Elaine and I do in Botetourt County, Virginia, is that I can go outside our back door and fish and hunt. As I wrote about in an earlier blog, I have Lyme Disease and have hunted much less this fall because of the fatigue associated with LD.
But with the high winds that struck this area Monday through Wednesday, I did not do any hunting those days, so somewhat refreshed, I went bowhunting behind our house Thursday on our creek ridge. The wind was still howling, but I wanted to enjoy the outdoors and had little expectation for success.
And that lack of confidence was justified as events transpired. I saw three squirrels, one raccoon, and the deer that Elaine and I call Little Bucky. He is a wimp of a 2 1/2-year-old buck with a disfigured side, making him a very distinct appearing five pointer. Little Bucky wanders aimlessly much of the time and several people on our road have given me reports of seeing him.
At 6:35 P.M., I descended from my ladder stand, and stiff-legged from the cold and wind, I wended my way through the hollow to our house. As I neared the garage door, I smelled welcoming wood smoke from our fire - certainly one of the most pleasurable smells to greet a cold bowhunter.
I think I won't hunt Friday after school and then go turkey hunting Saturday morning and deer hunting that evening, as Virginia's muzzleloader season begins that day.
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