Blammer
12-26-2010, 02:03 AM
Dec 22, 2010
The story.
It was the first full year of the Mountaineer Hunt Club. It's a new club and all stands had to be built, food plots need to be planted and trails cleared. The summer and fall work was done and the hunting and fun was to begin. Our rules dictate that you can build 3 or 4 stands. If you are hunting you have first dibs on hunting any of "your" stands, but any other member may hunt a stand, any stand, that is not in use. So if you have 3 stands you cannot prevent anyone from hunting the other two you don't occupy.
It's a nice feature that allows everyone to help maintain and build stands and help everyone else out too.
Several members had built a shed and stuffed some amenities into it, such as a stove, bed and insulation, and shelving for canned goods for overnight stays. Some are quite extravagant with a covered front porch, rails and steps leading up to it, some are just sheds. The campsite was quite nice with several fire pits build conveniently far enough away from anything to prevent them from being burned down, but by the same token far enough away that by the time you got to your quarters the warmth you obtained from the fire had long gone.
I am not one of the fortunate ones who have the where with all to build such a nice nighttime abode for merely using a few days a year for hunting. I tend to have to make do with what I can borrow. Fortunately someone had a covered wagon that was available to anyone who wanted to stay in it. It was large roomy and windproof, well as long as the wind blew two of 4 possible directions. The sun shone on it in the afternoon and warmed it nicely.
The stars were aligning, well I should say it's the moon that's aligning with the recent eclipse, my work schedule, visit from my SIL and the weather. All of this seemed to coincided nicely to afford me two days of hunting and one night of camping.
With much anticipation and much planning I was gathering the stuff I thought I'd need to go camp out and hunt. A first for me, of hunting AND camping and hunting some more. I couldn't have been happier if I were in a free cat house. I had done lots of day hunting, go hunting from sun up to sundown, staying outside all day. I had recently camped out overnight with the kids in the backyard this summer so what else did I possibly need other than a few more blankets.
The weather was nice, high of about 50 low of upper 30's lower 40's. No rain, good camping weather. The forecast for later on in the week was for a cold snowy weekend, it was far away from the day's I planned to be out.
After packing the truck the night before, with probably more creature comforts than needed and fewer necessities than warranted was ready for the grand adventure.
I woke eagerly at oh dark thirty, the insane hour as my wife describes it, I dressed, fixed some breakfast as it were, grabbed the last of my gear and headed out the door. I was set for the 2hr drive to get to camp, afterwards I'd sign out for the stand I wanted to hunt, and head out.
Arriving at camp in the middle of the week, especially three days before Christmas, it was empty. No one was there, I had the run of the place. I unlocked all the gates, dumped a few things in the covered wagon, signed out and headed out to hunt.
I make it sound like getting there and dumping a few things in the future sleep spot sound easy, but in the dark monkeying around, forgetting this and that, dropping this trying to find it, etc... takes time I finally got underway after daylight had broke.
This is a pic of the stand I hunted. I'm standing on the logging road, looking down at the stand that looks down into a valley. The flat valley contains a small creek and a nice wide bottom, sorta like a field. I was told it was about 120 yds away.
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g81/blammer8mm/2010%20Deer/DSCN8321.jpg
When packing the truck I couldn't decide what to take. So I took 4 firearms to pick from. 2 rifles and 2 pistols.
This morning I chose to lug my Rem 700 30-06 and my TC 7-30 waters. Each had an appropriate cast boolit load worked up and zeroed in for deer hunting. I was going to be in a nice covered sheltered blind of sorts with a nice seat and a shooting bench style rest to shoot off of, so taking two firearms was not really that much of a stretch. At least that's what I tell myself. :)
I opted to park my truck about 1/4 mile from the stand and walk down the road to the stand. So after gearing up I head out and get to the stand about 7am. The sun is up and it's daylight now.
I get to the blind, get settled and start hunting. I get the hot hands packs working, although I'm warm now, I'll want them hot later. I change my socks, as my feet sweat a lot and dry socks are always a must for me. After laying out the rifle to my left and the pistol on the rest to the right, I start to enjoy the view.
An hour passes and I think it's time for some hot chocolate, so I break out the thermos and shake it. Every time I shake up the hot chocolate I vividly recall the episode of "the hot chocolate" as it's become known as, that occurred while duck hunting. A huge grin comes over me and I just can't help it. I finish shaking up the hot chocolate and pour a cup. Ten or so minutes later it's gone. I think to myself, every time I've finished a cup of hot chocolate I've killed a deer almost immediately afterwards. I wonder if toda.... DEER!
Out in the bottom two deer suddenly appear, they are walking from my left to right. I see them with my eyes and don't spot any horns on either of the two I see. In a flash I decide to pick up my rifle and use it. I've often wondered when this time came how I would decide what to use. Well I didn't think I just grabbed what was handy, not how I envisioned it in my man cave while reloading ammo.
I threw up the rifle, laying it on the front padded rail of the blind, not even thinking of using the rifle rest that is there and put the scope on the first deer. I immediately noticed how large the deer looked in the scope. Lead deer has no horns, I whip the rifle over to the second deer, no horns either, now I'm back on the first as it's the biggest and in the clearing below.
I suddenly find that I have an unusually steady rest and the cross hairs are not dancing around anywhere, the deer is standing perfectly broadside, and looking at me. I thumb the safety off, line up dead center horizontally on the deer and the vertical cross hairs are lined up with the shoulder and the doe's right foot. I'm going for a shoulder shot half way up, aiming to take out bone and both lungs.
Off comes the safety, I'm still amazed at how steady the cross hairs were, and before I know it. BOOM! A puff of smoke from the 311284 that is air cooled from standard WW alloy, lubed with speed green and this one had Hornady GC's on it. The 31gr of IMR3031 sent the boolit out at 1850fps to my next venison sausage breakfast.
I saw the doe kick up and off she ran! I'm thinking, man that was a great shot, it all felt good and I am positive I hit her hard as she kicked high and her front went down some. All of these thoughts happened in the first 30 yds she ran. The next 20 yds with no signs of slowing I started to doubt myself in some way, first thought was, I flinched and missed, I reassured myself that wasn't the case. The next 20 yds she ran I'm thinking I just missed, I hit a twig it deflected the boolit, and about 10 other doubts arose.
About 70 yds from the shot I lost my visual of her, I then heard her crashing through the woods like she was making a get away. I felt bad. I missed. I felt good, I got one! I felt I needed to get down there and find out what the heck happened!
I change to my running shoes, take the minimum pack for dressing and tracking a kill, my rifle all the ammo and head out. I mentally marked my spot where I shot her and where she ran, knowing I'll need that info when I get down there.
Well I go crashing down the mountain through laurel thickets, steep snow covered rocky mountain sides and finally get to the bottom. Banged an bruised and out of breath, I declare I'm too old for this and need to take a more casual route next time. Yea, I say that everytime...
I find and re align where the doe was standing and where I shot from. I search for hair, blood, bone, anything for an indication of a hit. NOTHING. Rats, I think I missed. I start an ever widening circle looking, still nothing.
Next strategy, stand where deer was and start walking and stalking, searching and scouring for signs of a wounded deer. I walk 70 yds or so and come to a stream, that has lots of brush and 4" trees and smaller lying all about, it's tough to get through. There is some snow and I see some deer tracks, I figure, these I better follow. As I look ahead through this brush, over the three foot wide stream, there is a clearing. I see the backside of a white tail deer laying on the ground. There is only one other time I can recall being so elated at seeing a backside lying down... err ahh, on with the story.
I found her! I don't recall hopping the stream or once again crashing through the brush but I do remember walking upon my kill, it was glorious relief, all of my doubts and worries were over.
I poked the doe, she was dead for sure. I looked immediately for and entrance hole and rolled her over looking for an exit hole. I could find none. So I begin to look at where my boolit landed. Nothing in the neck, head or any other part of the body. I supposed in a bit of wondrous humor I just scared her to death. I'd have to wait till the autopsy to discover the real cause of death.
Field gutting was just as awkward as I ever remember, having only killed 9 deer, including this one, and having only eviscerated only 6 of them I'm still quite the rookie. The nearby stream provided useful for washing bloody hands and arms, at the expense of bone tingling numbness.
I dig out the heart and lo and behold.
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g81/blammer8mm/2010%20Deer/DSCN8333.jpg
Later back home, I calculated that the doe was about 170 yds away based on the velocity of my boolit and the drop compared to my point of aim. From a 100yd zero he drop is approx 12 inches to 200yds. I estimate my boolit dropped 6-8 inches. By basic extrapolation, a 100yd zero and 12" drop at 200 yds, mine drops 6-8 inches, therefore doe must have been 60-70 yds farther than 100yds.
Shot through the heart, AND she ran 110 yds to boot!
I also discovered her right front leg was broken. The boolit hit the JOINT on the leg, went through it, then hit ribs, then the heart, then out the other side ribs and missed the other leg. No boolit recovery or any fragments were found.
So, broken leg and big hole in heart she still ran 110 yds. Unfortunately she did not sprint 110yds closer to the truck.
Out comes the drag rope. Remember that creek? Well between the time I crossed it to get to my doe and gutted it, there must have been a monsoon up stream. My now three foot creek has become a treacherous yard wide raging river with quicksand pits and huge logs to hinder your progress. Well at least it seemed like that when trying to drag an extra 130lbs behind you on a rope.
After fording the river, the drag was less adventuresome and more work. A decision to drag an extra 150 yds or scurry up a 15 foot high 85 degree slope was the next choice. Looking back at it, I think the 150yd drag would have been a better choice.
The next horrible decision time was at hand. Drag the deer all the way to the truck, or leave the fresh kill to the mercy of the predators while suitable transportation was obtained. Hoping the bears and coyotes were not too hungry, I left the kill and dashed, up the mountain 1.5 miles to the truck.
Peeling off all of my coats and shirts and now down to my sweat soaked tee shirt, I tossed everything in the truck and headed back. Thoughts of having to fend off hoards of coyotes and big grizzlies from my kill raced through my head, urging me onward in a somewhat hasty haphazard manner at times.
Putting my Chevy into 4wd helped me navigate the slick muddy logging roads. Once arriving I then managed to get my 130 pound doe into the back. Being randomly kicked by a dead dear while attempting to load it's dead nimble body still hurts. Pushing jello up a hill would best describe my efforts at times. After loading and turning the truck around, I stopped by the blind got the rest of my gear and headed to camp.
Photo op time.
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g81/blammer8mm/2010%20Deer/DSCN8323.jpg
I signed back in, filled out the kill chart, and calculated she wt'd 130 lbs. A nice size one.
It's 11am now, I call home tell the good news, and say all is well, see you tomorrow. I recall my wife saying, "wow you got one so soon." After three hours of work to get to the point I was at, I was speachless.
Remember I still have plans to stay the night and hunt tomorrow too!
The camp gambrel was useful, and the gut bucket was made useful.
I managed to quarter the deer and get it into my cooler, which I then set in the shade to keep cool.
I changed clothes did some more prep for tonight camp out, and went out to hunt in another location for the evening.
No luck.
The weather starts to turn cold, not having a radio, yes the one in the truck has not worked for many years now, I didn't know what was really happening with the weather. I just figured it was getting dark and it just getting cold per usual.
After eating hot soup from the campfire, well, what was left of the soup after dropping a hot pan that was ill gotten from the fire, some other grub such as cashews, pop tarts, and canned peaches; a peaceful quite time was enjoyed by all. Well it was just me, I was very thankful for the events of the day and what had transpired to allow me such enjoyment of my favorite hobby/past time.
I turned into my rack and prepared for a good nights sleep.
The wind changed directions, but not all at once. Slowly through the evening the wind that was blowing against the side of the covered wagon suddenly blew though it from end to end. It just sucked all the heat out of it in about two shakes of a lambs tail. No problem, I'm bundled up good it's just a freak wind all will be better. Well after a fitful three hours of sleep, waking up freezing and shivering, the weather much much colder than expected, I had enough. I grabbed my clothes, sleeping bag and other quick items, got in my truck, fired it up, turned the heat on high and proceeded to sleep in the back extended cab part.
The cold front that was many days away, decided to hurry up and get here for Christmas I suppose. There was a two inch deep mud puddle earlier that evening. It was frozen solid the next morning.
I was too cold to hunt the next day, I was now tired, and cold. I managed to get some hot food in me, fried up some eggs and ham. I was quickly reminded where the phrase, 'get it while it's hot' originated. In a matter of one bite my eggs and ham went from too hot to eat to refrigerator cold.
I soon contented myself with my previous day's kill and gave up the idea of bagging another. I quickly tossed all my gear in the truck, loaded my venison cooler in the bed. Locked the camp gate and headed for home.
It's now several days, later, the day after Christmas. My body is still telling me I have muscles I didn't know I had.
Next time I think I may do a few things differently, but this was definitely one to remember.
The story.
It was the first full year of the Mountaineer Hunt Club. It's a new club and all stands had to be built, food plots need to be planted and trails cleared. The summer and fall work was done and the hunting and fun was to begin. Our rules dictate that you can build 3 or 4 stands. If you are hunting you have first dibs on hunting any of "your" stands, but any other member may hunt a stand, any stand, that is not in use. So if you have 3 stands you cannot prevent anyone from hunting the other two you don't occupy.
It's a nice feature that allows everyone to help maintain and build stands and help everyone else out too.
Several members had built a shed and stuffed some amenities into it, such as a stove, bed and insulation, and shelving for canned goods for overnight stays. Some are quite extravagant with a covered front porch, rails and steps leading up to it, some are just sheds. The campsite was quite nice with several fire pits build conveniently far enough away from anything to prevent them from being burned down, but by the same token far enough away that by the time you got to your quarters the warmth you obtained from the fire had long gone.
I am not one of the fortunate ones who have the where with all to build such a nice nighttime abode for merely using a few days a year for hunting. I tend to have to make do with what I can borrow. Fortunately someone had a covered wagon that was available to anyone who wanted to stay in it. It was large roomy and windproof, well as long as the wind blew two of 4 possible directions. The sun shone on it in the afternoon and warmed it nicely.
The stars were aligning, well I should say it's the moon that's aligning with the recent eclipse, my work schedule, visit from my SIL and the weather. All of this seemed to coincided nicely to afford me two days of hunting and one night of camping.
With much anticipation and much planning I was gathering the stuff I thought I'd need to go camp out and hunt. A first for me, of hunting AND camping and hunting some more. I couldn't have been happier if I were in a free cat house. I had done lots of day hunting, go hunting from sun up to sundown, staying outside all day. I had recently camped out overnight with the kids in the backyard this summer so what else did I possibly need other than a few more blankets.
The weather was nice, high of about 50 low of upper 30's lower 40's. No rain, good camping weather. The forecast for later on in the week was for a cold snowy weekend, it was far away from the day's I planned to be out.
After packing the truck the night before, with probably more creature comforts than needed and fewer necessities than warranted was ready for the grand adventure.
I woke eagerly at oh dark thirty, the insane hour as my wife describes it, I dressed, fixed some breakfast as it were, grabbed the last of my gear and headed out the door. I was set for the 2hr drive to get to camp, afterwards I'd sign out for the stand I wanted to hunt, and head out.
Arriving at camp in the middle of the week, especially three days before Christmas, it was empty. No one was there, I had the run of the place. I unlocked all the gates, dumped a few things in the covered wagon, signed out and headed out to hunt.
I make it sound like getting there and dumping a few things in the future sleep spot sound easy, but in the dark monkeying around, forgetting this and that, dropping this trying to find it, etc... takes time I finally got underway after daylight had broke.
This is a pic of the stand I hunted. I'm standing on the logging road, looking down at the stand that looks down into a valley. The flat valley contains a small creek and a nice wide bottom, sorta like a field. I was told it was about 120 yds away.
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g81/blammer8mm/2010%20Deer/DSCN8321.jpg
When packing the truck I couldn't decide what to take. So I took 4 firearms to pick from. 2 rifles and 2 pistols.
This morning I chose to lug my Rem 700 30-06 and my TC 7-30 waters. Each had an appropriate cast boolit load worked up and zeroed in for deer hunting. I was going to be in a nice covered sheltered blind of sorts with a nice seat and a shooting bench style rest to shoot off of, so taking two firearms was not really that much of a stretch. At least that's what I tell myself. :)
I opted to park my truck about 1/4 mile from the stand and walk down the road to the stand. So after gearing up I head out and get to the stand about 7am. The sun is up and it's daylight now.
I get to the blind, get settled and start hunting. I get the hot hands packs working, although I'm warm now, I'll want them hot later. I change my socks, as my feet sweat a lot and dry socks are always a must for me. After laying out the rifle to my left and the pistol on the rest to the right, I start to enjoy the view.
An hour passes and I think it's time for some hot chocolate, so I break out the thermos and shake it. Every time I shake up the hot chocolate I vividly recall the episode of "the hot chocolate" as it's become known as, that occurred while duck hunting. A huge grin comes over me and I just can't help it. I finish shaking up the hot chocolate and pour a cup. Ten or so minutes later it's gone. I think to myself, every time I've finished a cup of hot chocolate I've killed a deer almost immediately afterwards. I wonder if toda.... DEER!
Out in the bottom two deer suddenly appear, they are walking from my left to right. I see them with my eyes and don't spot any horns on either of the two I see. In a flash I decide to pick up my rifle and use it. I've often wondered when this time came how I would decide what to use. Well I didn't think I just grabbed what was handy, not how I envisioned it in my man cave while reloading ammo.
I threw up the rifle, laying it on the front padded rail of the blind, not even thinking of using the rifle rest that is there and put the scope on the first deer. I immediately noticed how large the deer looked in the scope. Lead deer has no horns, I whip the rifle over to the second deer, no horns either, now I'm back on the first as it's the biggest and in the clearing below.
I suddenly find that I have an unusually steady rest and the cross hairs are not dancing around anywhere, the deer is standing perfectly broadside, and looking at me. I thumb the safety off, line up dead center horizontally on the deer and the vertical cross hairs are lined up with the shoulder and the doe's right foot. I'm going for a shoulder shot half way up, aiming to take out bone and both lungs.
Off comes the safety, I'm still amazed at how steady the cross hairs were, and before I know it. BOOM! A puff of smoke from the 311284 that is air cooled from standard WW alloy, lubed with speed green and this one had Hornady GC's on it. The 31gr of IMR3031 sent the boolit out at 1850fps to my next venison sausage breakfast.
I saw the doe kick up and off she ran! I'm thinking, man that was a great shot, it all felt good and I am positive I hit her hard as she kicked high and her front went down some. All of these thoughts happened in the first 30 yds she ran. The next 20 yds with no signs of slowing I started to doubt myself in some way, first thought was, I flinched and missed, I reassured myself that wasn't the case. The next 20 yds she ran I'm thinking I just missed, I hit a twig it deflected the boolit, and about 10 other doubts arose.
About 70 yds from the shot I lost my visual of her, I then heard her crashing through the woods like she was making a get away. I felt bad. I missed. I felt good, I got one! I felt I needed to get down there and find out what the heck happened!
I change to my running shoes, take the minimum pack for dressing and tracking a kill, my rifle all the ammo and head out. I mentally marked my spot where I shot her and where she ran, knowing I'll need that info when I get down there.
Well I go crashing down the mountain through laurel thickets, steep snow covered rocky mountain sides and finally get to the bottom. Banged an bruised and out of breath, I declare I'm too old for this and need to take a more casual route next time. Yea, I say that everytime...
I find and re align where the doe was standing and where I shot from. I search for hair, blood, bone, anything for an indication of a hit. NOTHING. Rats, I think I missed. I start an ever widening circle looking, still nothing.
Next strategy, stand where deer was and start walking and stalking, searching and scouring for signs of a wounded deer. I walk 70 yds or so and come to a stream, that has lots of brush and 4" trees and smaller lying all about, it's tough to get through. There is some snow and I see some deer tracks, I figure, these I better follow. As I look ahead through this brush, over the three foot wide stream, there is a clearing. I see the backside of a white tail deer laying on the ground. There is only one other time I can recall being so elated at seeing a backside lying down... err ahh, on with the story.
I found her! I don't recall hopping the stream or once again crashing through the brush but I do remember walking upon my kill, it was glorious relief, all of my doubts and worries were over.
I poked the doe, she was dead for sure. I looked immediately for and entrance hole and rolled her over looking for an exit hole. I could find none. So I begin to look at where my boolit landed. Nothing in the neck, head or any other part of the body. I supposed in a bit of wondrous humor I just scared her to death. I'd have to wait till the autopsy to discover the real cause of death.
Field gutting was just as awkward as I ever remember, having only killed 9 deer, including this one, and having only eviscerated only 6 of them I'm still quite the rookie. The nearby stream provided useful for washing bloody hands and arms, at the expense of bone tingling numbness.
I dig out the heart and lo and behold.
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g81/blammer8mm/2010%20Deer/DSCN8333.jpg
Later back home, I calculated that the doe was about 170 yds away based on the velocity of my boolit and the drop compared to my point of aim. From a 100yd zero he drop is approx 12 inches to 200yds. I estimate my boolit dropped 6-8 inches. By basic extrapolation, a 100yd zero and 12" drop at 200 yds, mine drops 6-8 inches, therefore doe must have been 60-70 yds farther than 100yds.
Shot through the heart, AND she ran 110 yds to boot!
I also discovered her right front leg was broken. The boolit hit the JOINT on the leg, went through it, then hit ribs, then the heart, then out the other side ribs and missed the other leg. No boolit recovery or any fragments were found.
So, broken leg and big hole in heart she still ran 110 yds. Unfortunately she did not sprint 110yds closer to the truck.
Out comes the drag rope. Remember that creek? Well between the time I crossed it to get to my doe and gutted it, there must have been a monsoon up stream. My now three foot creek has become a treacherous yard wide raging river with quicksand pits and huge logs to hinder your progress. Well at least it seemed like that when trying to drag an extra 130lbs behind you on a rope.
After fording the river, the drag was less adventuresome and more work. A decision to drag an extra 150 yds or scurry up a 15 foot high 85 degree slope was the next choice. Looking back at it, I think the 150yd drag would have been a better choice.
The next horrible decision time was at hand. Drag the deer all the way to the truck, or leave the fresh kill to the mercy of the predators while suitable transportation was obtained. Hoping the bears and coyotes were not too hungry, I left the kill and dashed, up the mountain 1.5 miles to the truck.
Peeling off all of my coats and shirts and now down to my sweat soaked tee shirt, I tossed everything in the truck and headed back. Thoughts of having to fend off hoards of coyotes and big grizzlies from my kill raced through my head, urging me onward in a somewhat hasty haphazard manner at times.
Putting my Chevy into 4wd helped me navigate the slick muddy logging roads. Once arriving I then managed to get my 130 pound doe into the back. Being randomly kicked by a dead dear while attempting to load it's dead nimble body still hurts. Pushing jello up a hill would best describe my efforts at times. After loading and turning the truck around, I stopped by the blind got the rest of my gear and headed to camp.
Photo op time.
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g81/blammer8mm/2010%20Deer/DSCN8323.jpg
I signed back in, filled out the kill chart, and calculated she wt'd 130 lbs. A nice size one.
It's 11am now, I call home tell the good news, and say all is well, see you tomorrow. I recall my wife saying, "wow you got one so soon." After three hours of work to get to the point I was at, I was speachless.
Remember I still have plans to stay the night and hunt tomorrow too!
The camp gambrel was useful, and the gut bucket was made useful.
I managed to quarter the deer and get it into my cooler, which I then set in the shade to keep cool.
I changed clothes did some more prep for tonight camp out, and went out to hunt in another location for the evening.
No luck.
The weather starts to turn cold, not having a radio, yes the one in the truck has not worked for many years now, I didn't know what was really happening with the weather. I just figured it was getting dark and it just getting cold per usual.
After eating hot soup from the campfire, well, what was left of the soup after dropping a hot pan that was ill gotten from the fire, some other grub such as cashews, pop tarts, and canned peaches; a peaceful quite time was enjoyed by all. Well it was just me, I was very thankful for the events of the day and what had transpired to allow me such enjoyment of my favorite hobby/past time.
I turned into my rack and prepared for a good nights sleep.
The wind changed directions, but not all at once. Slowly through the evening the wind that was blowing against the side of the covered wagon suddenly blew though it from end to end. It just sucked all the heat out of it in about two shakes of a lambs tail. No problem, I'm bundled up good it's just a freak wind all will be better. Well after a fitful three hours of sleep, waking up freezing and shivering, the weather much much colder than expected, I had enough. I grabbed my clothes, sleeping bag and other quick items, got in my truck, fired it up, turned the heat on high and proceeded to sleep in the back extended cab part.
The cold front that was many days away, decided to hurry up and get here for Christmas I suppose. There was a two inch deep mud puddle earlier that evening. It was frozen solid the next morning.
I was too cold to hunt the next day, I was now tired, and cold. I managed to get some hot food in me, fried up some eggs and ham. I was quickly reminded where the phrase, 'get it while it's hot' originated. In a matter of one bite my eggs and ham went from too hot to eat to refrigerator cold.
I soon contented myself with my previous day's kill and gave up the idea of bagging another. I quickly tossed all my gear in the truck, loaded my venison cooler in the bed. Locked the camp gate and headed for home.
It's now several days, later, the day after Christmas. My body is still telling me I have muscles I didn't know I had.
Next time I think I may do a few things differently, but this was definitely one to remember.