5:30: Alarm sounds. Hit snooze button
5:35: Alarm sounds. Rehit snooze button.
5:40: Alarm sounds. Reach for bedside lamp, arm knocks last nights beer nightcap, swig tepid remains as both feet hit hardwood.
6:04: Print off a recent downloaded image of today's 'assignment'. Study it for a few moments & deposit in backpack.
6:30: Bowl of cereal. Cat mooches the milky, sugary dregs of the bowl. Same old same old.
6:45: Run an oily cloth through both barrels of the Browning Superposed, now mirror like again, it locks up tight & I deposit it in car trunk.
6:59: Arrive at gas bar, get a few squirts of fuel & a large cup of really bad coffee from those plastic pump-a-drink things. Scan Newstand headlines at checkout. Same old same old.
7:20: Sunrise, clear & cold at -8c, smoke rising staight up from all chimney's visible. A golden day for a kill.
7:38: Arrive at known & frequented hangout of the 'assignment'.
7:43: Quickly restudy photo, don packback, tighten boots, load gun, lock car & start the persuit.
8:45: Three kilometers covered, no sign of any life anywhere but he's there I'm sure, I can feel him.
9:06: Suddenly two quick steps in frosted, crunchy leaves, I try and draw a bead but the light is dead wrong & the shadowy figure escapes into the underbrush.
10:20: Arrive at wooden bridge crossing stream with 10 foot vertical drop. The structure is badly tilted & missing most of it's support & planks but decide to cross it anyway. Bad decision, what's left of the rungs are covered in frost as thick as birthday cake icing. I slip, skid & narrowly escape a plunge. Regroup, rethink & wade across stream using gun for balance a la Rambo.
10:52: A fresh spent shell on the road about a week old - so - he has other enemies & I'm on the right trail.
11:00: 10 kilometers covered. All silent, then suddenly a prehistoric like screetch from directly behind sends a chill - pileated woodpeckers surely evolved from dinosaurs.
11:15: A sudden burst fom a new growth conifer thicket catches me badly off guard, no bead no chance.
11:30: Break for lunch, brown bagger of egg salad sandwiches, a gala apple, two sugar donuts washed down with an electric blue Powerade drink. It hits the spot & immediately increases focus. The temperature has risen to 6c & it is as warm as hell comparitively, I strip a layer, change tshirts & trek on.
12:45:Not a sound, no wind, nothing moving, no tracks - all quiet like silent night.
1:00: Pedometer reads 14 kilometers, the balls of me feet are swoolen & threatening to blister. I block/numb out the increasing discomfort.
1:33: Have come full circle & revisit the broken down bridge. The sun has melted the frost & without hesitation dance across it like a child playing hopscotch. Sun already on the wane & making colorful shadows on the mossy forest floor. Time is short, I quicken my pace.
2:18: Feet need attention - Now! Undo boots remove socks, plunge them in cold brook for a couple of minutes, dry off, apply arnica creme, double layer of fresh socks - almost like new.
3:14: Reenter sector where I jumped him earlier this morning. The sunlight from the west is just right now & illuminating the path almost perfectly. Surely he's not far from this his favourite watering hole. I can only hope he hasn't been tipped off. I check the shells & decide to swap them for luck, ease off the safety & advance in classic stocking pose.
3:22: There! A shuffle in the fallen maple leafs. Then nothing. He's there, frozen & camouflaged. I answer his gambit with a few steps of my own & he rises up, I finally get a bead, a bead that took 7 hours & 40 minutes - I squeeze off one shot & the assignment is over, mission completed, pay day.
3:35: I gut him, save the heart(cat's meow) & bag the breast, it's 3 kilometers back to the car - just enough time to get back before sundown.
4:30: Arrive back at car, pedometer reads 19.6 kilometers, put the keys in the ignition, turn on radio, ironically it's John Denver's 'Country Roads Take me Home' playing on an Oldies Station.
-----------
That's it folks!
Experiences, thoughts while grouse hunting/assassinating yesterday. Those days when game is teeming about at every step & you're getting your gun off accordingly seems like what it is - game hunting, a good old shoot.
However those perfect weather days where you swear your going see game at every step & you don't ..... in fact you see hardly see anything & as the day progresses, you become more & more aware that your one chance(if that) is going to be your only chance seems totally different.
Stalking that elusive bird for 16 kilometers over 7 hours & waiting for that one & only 'slip-up' or likewise sitting in a baited deer blind for several hours waiting for that similar 'golden opportunity' has to be alike or equal to the focus & determination that a mob hitman or army sniper would possess.... thus the analogy or so it seems.
5:35: Alarm sounds. Rehit snooze button.
5:40: Alarm sounds. Reach for bedside lamp, arm knocks last nights beer nightcap, swig tepid remains as both feet hit hardwood.
6:04: Print off a recent downloaded image of today's 'assignment'. Study it for a few moments & deposit in backpack.
6:30: Bowl of cereal. Cat mooches the milky, sugary dregs of the bowl. Same old same old.
6:45: Run an oily cloth through both barrels of the Browning Superposed, now mirror like again, it locks up tight & I deposit it in car trunk.
6:59: Arrive at gas bar, get a few squirts of fuel & a large cup of really bad coffee from those plastic pump-a-drink things. Scan Newstand headlines at checkout. Same old same old.
7:20: Sunrise, clear & cold at -8c, smoke rising staight up from all chimney's visible. A golden day for a kill.
7:38: Arrive at known & frequented hangout of the 'assignment'.
7:43: Quickly restudy photo, don packback, tighten boots, load gun, lock car & start the persuit.
8:45: Three kilometers covered, no sign of any life anywhere but he's there I'm sure, I can feel him.
9:06: Suddenly two quick steps in frosted, crunchy leaves, I try and draw a bead but the light is dead wrong & the shadowy figure escapes into the underbrush.
10:20: Arrive at wooden bridge crossing stream with 10 foot vertical drop. The structure is badly tilted & missing most of it's support & planks but decide to cross it anyway. Bad decision, what's left of the rungs are covered in frost as thick as birthday cake icing. I slip, skid & narrowly escape a plunge. Regroup, rethink & wade across stream using gun for balance a la Rambo.
10:52: A fresh spent shell on the road about a week old - so - he has other enemies & I'm on the right trail.
11:00: 10 kilometers covered. All silent, then suddenly a prehistoric like screetch from directly behind sends a chill - pileated woodpeckers surely evolved from dinosaurs.
11:15: A sudden burst fom a new growth conifer thicket catches me badly off guard, no bead no chance.
11:30: Break for lunch, brown bagger of egg salad sandwiches, a gala apple, two sugar donuts washed down with an electric blue Powerade drink. It hits the spot & immediately increases focus. The temperature has risen to 6c & it is as warm as hell comparitively, I strip a layer, change tshirts & trek on.
12:45:Not a sound, no wind, nothing moving, no tracks - all quiet like silent night.
1:00: Pedometer reads 14 kilometers, the balls of me feet are swoolen & threatening to blister. I block/numb out the increasing discomfort.
1:33: Have come full circle & revisit the broken down bridge. The sun has melted the frost & without hesitation dance across it like a child playing hopscotch. Sun already on the wane & making colorful shadows on the mossy forest floor. Time is short, I quicken my pace.
2:18: Feet need attention - Now! Undo boots remove socks, plunge them in cold brook for a couple of minutes, dry off, apply arnica creme, double layer of fresh socks - almost like new.
3:14: Reenter sector where I jumped him earlier this morning. The sunlight from the west is just right now & illuminating the path almost perfectly. Surely he's not far from this his favourite watering hole. I can only hope he hasn't been tipped off. I check the shells & decide to swap them for luck, ease off the safety & advance in classic stocking pose.
3:22: There! A shuffle in the fallen maple leafs. Then nothing. He's there, frozen & camouflaged. I answer his gambit with a few steps of my own & he rises up, I finally get a bead, a bead that took 7 hours & 40 minutes - I squeeze off one shot & the assignment is over, mission completed, pay day.
3:35: I gut him, save the heart(cat's meow) & bag the breast, it's 3 kilometers back to the car - just enough time to get back before sundown.
4:30: Arrive back at car, pedometer reads 19.6 kilometers, put the keys in the ignition, turn on radio, ironically it's John Denver's 'Country Roads Take me Home' playing on an Oldies Station.
-----------
That's it folks!
Experiences, thoughts while grouse hunting/assassinating yesterday. Those days when game is teeming about at every step & you're getting your gun off accordingly seems like what it is - game hunting, a good old shoot.
However those perfect weather days where you swear your going see game at every step & you don't ..... in fact you see hardly see anything & as the day progresses, you become more & more aware that your one chance(if that) is going to be your only chance seems totally different.
Stalking that elusive bird for 16 kilometers over 7 hours & waiting for that one & only 'slip-up' or likewise sitting in a baited deer blind for several hours waiting for that similar 'golden opportunity' has to be alike or equal to the focus & determination that a mob hitman or army sniper would possess.... thus the analogy or so it seems.
