So, my phone is loaded with hunting contacts. . . . Old guys, young guys, rich guys, poor guys, fat guys, tall guys, blue collar, white collar, . . . . People from all walks of life.
15 separate text messages today, all looking for a shed hunting partner for tomorrow. Now, bear in mind that this trip would be plug-and-play in its purest form. I offer to drive. I've got the yarding areas mapped-out. My spots. My car. My gas. Hell, I've even got trail cameras strung all over the place, monitoring whats going on. Monster sheds abound. They're just waiting to be collected. . .
Well . . . out of 15 texts, I got 5 sad excuses and 10 separate episodes of the silent treatment.
Now, these aren't cold calls. I'm not just nagging folks out of the clear blue sky. These are guys who have told me in the past that they want to go. "Oooh, let me know - I DEFINITELY want to go." "I'd LOVE to try that!" "I just like to get out and walk around." Sher Sher.
A couple of the fellas I can give a pass to. I know they genuinely wanted to go, but life got in the way. That happens. But seriously. 15? Man-up doggy.
You boys that know me, y'all know that I often question the dedication of my fellow hunters . . . and rightfully so. People just talk such a big game about being legendary woodsmenwho refuse to be denied, heroicdeerslayers, gods among men . . .but when the rubber meets the road - they'd rather be parked in front of the TV, elbow deep in a tub of cheesy poofs. If half of America's great white hunters were half as hardcore as they pretend to be, there wouldn't be a goddamn deer left alive.
So that brings me to the ultimate question: is it BETTER or WORSE that most guys have no work ethic when it comes to deer season?
On one hand, it kinda sucks that it's so hard to find a hunting partner who really gets after it year-round. On the other hand, it's a blessing-in-disguise, because if everybody went balls-to-the-wall, there wouldn't be a blessed thing left to hunt.
Ahhh.... I digress....
If any of you fellas wanna get together tomorrow and do some shed hunting - ring my phone tomorrow morning anytime after 7.
Keep it real, orange peels.
Drunken rant.
