The Week

For those of you that have been following along and reading my blog, whether it's every week or just occasionally, by now you know a little bit about who I am and who we are as a family. If you're not a hunter, you probably think that I spend too much time intertwining my writings with too many tidbits about hunting. And if you are a hunter, maybe you are wishing that I was writing more hunting stories. And if you're at all like my wife Jenelle, you're probably reading my blogs and wondering, "what is wrong with this guy? Last week he said that this was "the week", to be hunting. Why does he spend so much time traipsing around in the woods before and after "the week"? And what is the "rut" anyways?

Well to attempt to answer some of these questions, here goes.

 First and foremost, to answer the question of what is wrong with this guy, well, I have a "condition". I'm not exactly certain what that condition is, but they say that admitting that you have a "condition" is the first step to living peaceably with that "condition". Honestly, "the condition" has caused Jenelle and I to struggle at times, especially when the kids were little. And so, "tongue in cheek" l  am writing this a little lightheartedly. But there is a bad side to almost everything that a person does, especially when it comes to hobbies and spouses. To just quit and get rid of our hobbies isn't a good thing either because it just squelches who we are and what we were meant to be. And so we've both had to adjust and give and take, and to learn to make sure that our hobbies don't get ahead of our marriage, but still recognize and encourage each other as we pursue those hobbies, whether they be hunting or shopping or fitness or travel. And through helping each other reach those goals it feels like we've become stronger and actually found joy in the process.

 Every hobby has a cost of either time or money and yet each one is rewarding in its own way. Finding that balance is definitely one of the hardest things in this life, but when it's there, it's also one of the most joyful parts.

And now that you know what is wrong with me, let me get back to the other questions. And for you non-hunters that I'm starting to lose, let me tell you this, things are about to get zingy and explicit!

So, why do I spend so much time traipsing around in the woods before and after "the week"  and what is "the rut" anyways?

 For starters, I just love seeing all the interesting and intricate things outside. There are so many secrets in nature, and really, reading about them is good, but to actually discover and see first hand is like having a piece of burnt sugar cake compared to a biscuit!

So, scientifically, the rut is a precise time each year when deer breed. By design, this happens in early November so that the fawns are born in the spring when the does will have plenty of lush vegetation to eat and produce great milk for the fawns. This is triggered by the amount of daylight that the doe receives and she will be receptive to a buck at this time. The bucks also go through a similar cycle. When spring comes they start to grow new antlers. As the days shorten their antlers quit growing and turn into hard bone. By the beginning of November the amount of light they receive drives them into a frenzy where all that they can think about is breeding. That's the biscuit version of the rut.

And now for the burnt sugar cake version.

Last Friday, November 11, was one of those days, that because of being there, I'll never want to miss that same date in the future.

I got home from work with only a couple hours to spare. I grabbed my bow and rushed to a spot on some state ground not real far from my house. Since I didn't have much time I didn't take a tree stand but just hunted on the ground. It was raining and if I hadn't experienced the rut in the past, I probably would have just stayed home. Of course, as a hunter the hope is to harvest a big buck, but as you get older, the real hope is to witness the rut. And so passing on a shot at a buck isn't always a hope for a bigger buck, but sometimes a hope for a longer season!

After getting settled in a gully next to a tree, I got out my grunt tube which imitates a buck, kind of a rally to see if there are other bucks out there. Immediately a buck grunted back. I was wishing that I was in a tree because if he came looking for me and I was on the ground he would see me before I had time to shoot, and discovering the truth, he would be gone before I had time to draw my bow. A little bit later a doe came scurrying down beside me. And then I saw three deer running the other way. "I wonder if they saw or smelled me and ran," I thought to myself. But a little bit later they came running back. Back and forth. Several bucks chasing a poor little doe. And then the doe came close and got a whiff of my scent and took off down the mountain. Not a giant, but the biggest buck of the crew took off after her down the mountain. I thought it odd that the other two bucks didn't follow suit, as usually that's what happens. A one-horned eight point stood twenty-five yards away. He sounded like our dog Koda on a hot day after a run. He was panting with his tongue hanging out and shaking from exhaustion. After a minute or so he turned and went back up into the brush. Apparently the one horned buck had another girlfriend back up in the brush even though I assumed all the deer had left. After waiting a while and grunting some more with no further results, I thought I would try to snort wheeze. I'd already had a great evening and so even if I scared everything away with this particular call it wouldn't matter. This is an aggressive call from the dominant buck in an area. Most other bucks will leave because they don't want their butts kicked, although when they are lovesick, they will sometimes stay and fight. Most dominant bucks are old and smart and can usually circle down wind without being seen and figure out that it's a human making that noise and not some new monarch that just moved into town. So it's not aIways a good call to try, but I tried it. A minute later a big monarch topped the ridge 70 yds away and then disappeared. Immediately a doe from above me came running by at about 10 yds and crossed the narrow ravine and stood twenty yards away between me and where I had last seen the big buck. I watched intently for the buck to come down to the doe but no luck. As I was watching I heard a commotion behind me. The one-horned eight point charged by me at three yds, almost close enough to hit with a stick. He went straight to the doe, which was receptive. As she stood still he jumped on her and did his orgasmic thrust. And since we were in what is probably the most rugged and steep terrain in the state, the buck fell and flopped down into the ravine. By this time, with the fog and night time coming on, it was getting hard to see. The big buck didn't make another appearance.  The doe and one horned buck eventually moved off. And that was one of my most exciting hunts ever! 

And now for the credits. First of all, I have to thank God for creating such an exciting nature. And second, a big thank you to Jenelle, for helping me find the balance, hanging with me when I fail, yet encouraging me to be the me that God made me to be! 

And next year, during "the week" you can bet that I'll be out there again! Of course until then, at least when it's convenient, I'll be out there, trying to figure out and better understand where the excitement will happen, or actually hunting to fill my freezer, or just enjoying the discovery of the secrets of nature. At the same time I hope that I have the sense to be supportive of those around me. And when Jenelle is on some crazy and painful run or ride, instead of asking what's wrong with that crazy girl, I can smile and know that for her, it's "the week" and a happy Jenelle is a happy me!