I got interested in hunting when I was invited on a hunt with my girlfriend. Every time I brought up the subject of tagging along to my male friends who hunt, I was met with laughter and ridicule. I’m a girl. I belong at home.
So, I watched hunting shows and asked questions online to prepare myself for the season. On opening day of deer season, my clothes were washed in baking soda, and I washed with scentless soap. I watched YouTube to see how to paint my face. My hair was a frizzy mop head because without smoothing cream, gel and hairspray, it’s a rat’s nest. Needless to say, I invested in a camouflage baseball cap. Oh yea, I was ready for any date offers that came my way.
I got to my spot and sprayed myself with scent kill and doe and buck urine. I also borrowed my ex-husband’s barn shirt as I was hunting on farmland and, apparently, you have to smell like a scent deer are used to. Could this possibly be right? Me? The germ freak- who uses coconut and banana soap, tea tree oil shampoo and avocado conditioner with matching lotions and potions, gels and hairspray- putting urine on the bottom of oversized boots… boots that the salesman from Dicks said I needed bigger for my hunting socks. Me- wearing a shirt reeking of cow manure plus green and black streaks across my face and a mop head that was flattened on the side I slept on? All I know is I better get a deer!
I am not very handy in the woods so there was enough orange tape leading to my stand that Helen Keller could find it. I got to my stand and waited. I ate a cheesestick every half hour- partly to keep up my energy and partly due to boredom. My ex-husband put the tree stand up, and I did a lot of reflecting while sitting 16 feet up a tree. I also tried shaking the stand a little to see if it was loose, but not too much because I really didn’t want to find out if my ex harbored ill will from the divorce.
Seven hours later, I was out of cheesesticks and getting ready to leave as the sun went down when, suddenly, I finally saw movement! My heart skipped a beat as I realized it was a doe. She was at 57 yards. While 16 feet in the air with oversized boots and about a 15 on the Richter scale, I decided to take the shot. I fired and got her!
The sun was setting more and more, so I knew I was running out of time. I climbed down and made my way through thick brush to find her. As I was climbing over a downed tree, I slipped forward and fell face first onto it. I screamed many obscenities while checking to make sure my shin wasn’t broken. I got up and no sooner took one step and slipped backwards on my shotgun strapped to my back. I now made up swear words while thinking to myself- hey, this is the first time I’ve ever fallen frontwards and backwards at the same time.
When I went to get up, I realized the strap to the gun was caught on the brush and I was officially stuck. Oh, great! Now I’m bear bait! I panicked and feverishly tried to get out. Finally, I calmed down enough to get myself free.
Now, it was now dark and I couldn’t find my way back because I didn’t have a flashlight. My only hope out alive was to call my ex-husband. After many phone calls and messages, he finally returned my frantic calls for help. I could just picture his reaction to finding out his ex was lost in the woods with no way out- THANK YOU GOD!
After much begging and pleading, he agreed to make the 50 minute trip. Two hours later, he showed up. By this time I was quite misty-eyed as there’s a lot more noise awareness when you are pinned up against a tree in total darkness. I ran to him and hugged him. Before I could get my thank you out, he realized how close I was to civilization and started ranting and raving about coming all the way out there when I could have gotten out myself. It was then that I remembered why we were divorced. You should have seen his face when I asked him to help me gut the deer. I don’t care… I got my deer!
