I hunted HARD for 10 solid days. I found the birds to be less than enthusiastic most of that tiime. Had some good mornings with Paul, heard a lot of birds, they just did not act right. Paul ninja'd one on Sunday. I did get to see a few birds here and there, but they did not respond to calls for 9 days. I did figure out why the dinosaur became extinct- they migrated to SE Ga and ran into the skeeters down there. I lost 2 pints of blood the first day, kept my mask on and still swallowed three. Backwoods Off is just a cologne for those things!!!!! Things got better the last day of the hunt, but didnt start out that way. We parked at the spot Saturday morning and both of us decided that while it was cool enough to keep the skeeters at bay, we would both borrow a pine tree and relieve ourselves of some extra weight that we didnt want to carry around. Paul's extra weight was wayyyyyy worse than mine
. We spray down with "cologne" and get our gear on and guns loaded. Now it is just a waiting game. Well, the first bird sounded off and to our amazement, I think Paul relieved himself right under that birds roost. And the bird was not real happy about it. I swear he was only 60yds away from the truck. I later told Paul he sould have just given that bird the keys to the truck. We circled down a little ways and picked a less than ideal setup. The bird hit the ground and came on a string to some light purring. Problem was, he stopped 5' off Paul's off shoulder and stared at Paul for several minutes. The bird figured something wasnt quite right and flew off. By this time I am so ticked off, I told Paul to take me home
. Well, he didnt, and off we go for another spot. We had heard a bird several hundred yards away and headed in his direction. He was goblling good on his own. We get set up, made a few yelps on my glass call and he cut me off. I put the call down and got the gun up. About two minutes later I see a white head coming down the road and through the swamp. I may have let the bird get a little close, Paul seemed to think the bird was going to hump his leg or something. A load of Hevi13 #6s ended the week long misery and I was finally on the board. Nothing special, nice average two year old. But he had done his fair share of fighting lately as he was beat up and scarred pretty good. We hang my bird in a tree and move on another. That bird didnt work out. Paul lost a striker on the original setup, so we decided to go back and look for it. While walking through the swamp, I stumbled upon #2. Only, #2 made me need to #2
. I always look down where I am walking, but for some reason, this thing blended in so well, I didnt see it until I stepped on its head. It drew up to strike, I yelped like a little girl and was in mid air when Paul turned to see what was going on. He said later the from the sound I made, he knew what had happened. Now coiled up at my feet was 5' of really ticked off rattlesnake. But what I dont understand is, God gave you an early warning device built right into your tail. I doubt that it came with an instruction manual, but I would think the use would be pretty standard. But not with this one. It didnt rattle one time. Paul wound up ending his reign o fterror with a few hundred tee shots to the head with a sturdy club. At one point, Paul was just swinging away and I asked him " How dead is dead for you?". He said, give me one more:lolhammer:. So now there is some rattlesnake meat in the freezer as well as some fresh turkey breast.
