Tuesday, November 06, 2012

A short anecdote

By Mac Arnold
MAHFS Editor

Here's a short anecdote that seems fitting for the way my fall hunting season is going:

There was some buzz recently in The Macomb Daily sports department about the latest Denzel Washington flick "Flight."

I butted in and said the movie seemed "repetitive" because the movie he just did two years ago "Unstoppable" mirrored a similar plot.

"He stopped a train in that one and now he's moved onto stopping a jet plane," I said cynically.

Both Chuck and Mandy chimed in.

"Kinda like Mac Arnold hunting stories where he goes into woods and then comes out empty handed over and over again."

 I laughed but I'm crying on the inside.

Of course, none of that changed today or this past weekend.

It was just another day of merely dragging my beaten down body out of the woods instead of a deer. (I'm nursing a sore back.)

Man, it was cold today (Tuesday, Nov. 6). I did a three-hour sit with a slight SSE wind and temperatures hovering at 30 degrees on the Sanilac County farm I've been blessed to hunt this season.

I did see a deer for the first time while on the stand in a week. Sadly, I dismissed a slight crack behind me because there had been a squirrel raising havoc behind me, in front of me, below me ...

Anyway, I decided to hit the grunt call and away she pranced, a doe, not a squirrel. Oops.

I'm hardly a prognosticator of  weather at the level of the Farmer's Almanac or The Weather Channel, but I'm going out on a leg and saying we will likely have snow by Michigan's Nov. 15 regular firearms opener.

Which reminds me of one of the last opening days I had at the old family property Arnold Airport in Croswell back in the late 1990s. I shared this great hunt with a buddy of mine, who also served in the Army about the same time I did.

It was his knowledge of survival skills that took me by surprise during that hunt. A hunt that turned snowy and in a hurry. If I remember right, we had 7 inches of snow on the ground by the time we packed up and headed home.

Where the hunt went backwoods was after I discovered my pal had forgot his hunting boots and was holding watch on the east side of the property in his high tops.

After not hearing from him in a couple of hours, I turned the corner only to see a wisp of smoke coming from the fenceline.

Puzzled, I went up to investigate only to find him leaning back on a log with his feet up against a fire and his high tops perched upside down on a makeshift drying rack.

No wonder I wasn't seeing anything.


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