The Game of Tag

It began with a comment of, “If I were going to go hunting, I’d like to harvest a moose,” and went into a domino effect from there.  Next, I was surprised with an enrollment into a Hunter’s Safety Course.  I have to admit with the placing of trail cameras and being able to see wildlife such as moose, elk, and deer pose nonchalantly for our cameras, my excitement began to grow from there.   Especially, when my husband and oldest daughter brought me home a moose skull they found.  Thankfully, we were able to revisit the area to find two moose scapulas for when my magic numbers are drawn for my moose hunt.  All this excitement has come to this year-2014, which will mark the first hunt for this Hunter’s Wife.  Sadly, it is not for a moose but rather my hunt will be for a white-tail deer.

Now, this blog is normally all about my husband, but this post is more about my fears of hunting with a seasoned hunter, who in my eyes is nothing but an undiscovered sasquatch…I mean, pro.  My Jimmie, eats-sleeps-and-breaths hunting; 24-7, three hundred and sixty-five days a year an extra day in leap year, and any spare moment in-between there, he is reading insurmountable amounts of magazines, books, forum discussions, and any other hunting items/discussions he can get his hands on.  So, a newbie, like myself, has specific expectations when hunting with a pro, which includes a continuous prayer to God that PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE HIT my target, in this case a white-tail.

Growing up, I played sports, which required a great detail of coordination.  On most occasions, I am not completely lacking in intelligence and for the most part, I do know when I should stay quiet.  Additionally, I have been working out like a mad-woman not because this year marks the turning of big 4-0 but so that when/if I ever draw a moose tag, I’d be able to hang with the big-boy and make hiking and hauling look like child’s play.  BUT, for whatever reason, I get into the wilderness and I turn into the character of Barney Fife.  All coordination, intelligence, and use of “in-door-voice” go out the window!  For example, we were checking our trail-cameras.  My extra-special-powers of ADHD kicked in and I began to check-out all the shiny rocks, beautiful flowers, and ooohhhh-look a butterfly! 

The over-stimulation caused me to trip over a discovery of what appeared to be moose paddles!  Shrills of excitement, jumping up and down like a little girl on the playground took over, I began to dig and holler for Jimmie in my not so good “in-door” voice, “Look what I found!  Look what I found! EEEEEKKKK!” 

 Sadly, all this excitement did not lead to moose paddles, but it did lead to other skeletal remains of an animal that Mother Nature buried over the years.  Awww-dang!

I would like you to think this has been the only incident where my excitement has taken over.  Unfortunately, my husband has a Facebook account and he does not neglect to embellish with it by over-indulgencing to our friends and family of the “interesting” fishing encounters we have had.  In my defense, the beavers insist on planting piranhas in AND to dig holes into the creek bottoms as well as place the slipperiest rocks EVER & build the most creative obstacles of tree branches around their lodges! 

          Here is the scoop…stream fishing!  It is my first time stream fishing, and my loving man purchases me some sauna pants…no, no, that’s not right…hot pants?  No, not that either…oh yes, waders!  I feel the butterflies in my belly as my excitement begins to build as we walk near the creek.  Actually, at that point I believe the belly-butterflies are my hopes of anticipation to spot or to run into a moose.  The vegetation is ideal for moose.  Quietly and slowly, Jimmie enters the creek.  I gracefully attempt to mimic his behavior by placing my foot in the water but frantically yelp, “awww-piranhas!” as fish dart into and around my ankles, making me quickly retreat my feet, which ever so slightly throws my balance off.  At least the elegant landing sort of makes me look agile.  Thank God for water and my hero Jimmie who helped me up!

Pretty sure the beavers trained the piranahs to throw-off my balance which resulted in my half dry and not so half-dry attire from the waist up!

Apparently, my incredulous balance fails me more than I’d like to admit for the act of fishing is particularly challenging.  Oh, ya, I mean-dang beavers!!  For, it is the aftermath OR perhaps even prior to part-taking in the act of fishing that leads to imbalance. 

Enters the next scoop…glacial lake fishing!  Those little buggers are so hungry, they make me appear to look like I am the next Jimmie Houston but in the female version.  Otherwise, I’d fish like the McCann brother’s, Hub (Robert Duval) and Garth (Michael Caine) from New Line Cinema’s (2003) movie, Secondhand Lion.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mc9RfQaJirs

The most interesting thing about glacial lake fishing is that the beavers travel so far to place the most slippery rocks around the lakes in order to keep their fish safe from predators.  Here I thought beavers only like streams, huh!  I decide I’m going to fish the opposite side of the lake rather than fish next to Jimmie.  Soda in tow, he and I head towards a little stream we have to cross to get to where I would like to fish.  As we approach, I was daydreaming about out-fishing Jimmie but I stop at the stream prior to crossing it to see where he was going.  It appears that the boots I had on were quite heavier than I had anticipated because I only landed one foot down. 

The next few moments, did not end well.  My left foot slid down the rock and my right one…I am not even sure where it went or what it was doing at this point.  My right knee stopped me from completely belly-flopping in the lake by landing onto the other rock that was peeking through the stream.  I have no idea how Jimmie held his laughter back.  I quickly jump up and began stripping off my gear, particularly, my waders.  My Barney Fife moment was to be wearing my camera between my waders and my t-shirt.  The next frantic visions were of me having to purchase a new camera and explain to our girls & Jimmie that Mommy trashed the wonderful, expensive Christmas present they gave me.  Then, there is the vision of my guardian angel with her face in her palm shaking her head from side-to-side as she heard the colorful language that flew through my womanly lips; I was doing so well!

It is a good thing that God blessed me with a wonderful, funny, and intelligent husband.  Jimmie convinced me to head back to our truck so he could nurse my thumb, which was swelling and bleeding horribly, and we could figure out what to do about my camera.  As we sat in the truck, he attempted but failed miserably to convince me to not fish the rest of the day.  Placing my camera on the dash with the heater on high, we dried out my camera and Jimmie checked out my right thumb.  The trip was not a complete loss because I did out-fish Jimmie, who felt he needed to babysit his wife as I fished around the lake and my camera managed to take one last picture for the day of my awesome catch!

Slippery rocks the beavers planted which not only attempted to remove my thumb but also attempted to take out my camera

             As you can see, this Hunter’s Wife aka Barney-etta Fife feels very nervous for my first-ever hunting trip.  I just hope that as/when I crouch to the ground glassing for white-tails that I don’t fall butt first into a pile of cactus; talk about-getting to know your significant other!