Quote:
Originally Posted by bristowboy_20
Not really. I love it but sometimes it just gets sooooo frustrating!
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I hear ya. Today was a doozy for me too.
I hunt on federal game lands down where Im at because I don't belong to a hunting club (they are worse than unions), and because I can't hunt on base anymore.
What ever happened to southern hospitality? The people down here remind me more of newyorkers than southerners. Ill explain.
I get out to my spot just before sunrise. Get up in the stand, and wait. Sun comes up and I hear a doe on the other side of the thicket Im in, I aim at where I think she is going to walk into me at and I start hearing people talking and dogs howling, The doe jumps into where I am and I drill her, perfect heart shot, flag falls, she bolts, I come down out of the stand and track her out. She made it about 90 or so feet before she dropped, but who do I see already dressing her? Some 50 year short and morbidly obese old man with a slung shotgun and about ten people standing around him, him talking about how she walked right up to him and he shot her (note that the only shot was mine), I step up to him and his friends and politely tell em that I shot her, and no one else fired a shot after I did. He gets red and starts to yell bout how Im not going to steal his deer, etc etc. His friends back him. I point to his shogun, ask what hes shooting, he says slugs, I bend down over the doe and point out the rather small entry, and slightly bigger exit. Then point at his shotgun again and ask how a 12 gauge slug made such a small hole. He stammers and I show my M92, and eject a HC lead .357 mag. He shuts up and he and his boys walk on.
I finish dressing her and drag her back to my truck (there are five or six trucks parked right where mine is) then set out on my markers to retrieve my stand and pack. When I get to the thicket I notice my markers have been taken down, but I hunt pretty regular out of this spot so I know it pretty good. I get back to where my stand and pack was and guess what? It is gone. Now I not only know that was the spot because I know it well, but because the 6 inch field bandage I use as a scent marker was still hanging from a nearby tree. I haul ass back to my truck to see the dust trail of six trucks. I look in the back of my truck and guess what, the doe is gone. So I not only had my stand stolen, but my doe.
I did get a plate number, they are going to fry. I only hope the authorities catch em before my six foot five two hundred and sixty five pound frame full of pent up aggression left over from a decade and change in the Corps does.
Now where I grew up in the midwest folks were proper to each other. We don't slow our pace when we see a car stopped at a crosswalk being nice by letting us cross it. We say please and thank you, if we go out to public land and see a vehicle already parked where we were going to hunt we go someplace else, and we dont steal game and stands.
I cant wait to get out of this damn state.