LITTLE ROCK — I’m sitting in the warmth of a popup blind in a nondescript corner of a vast pine thicket near Sheridan.
It’s Sunday, the second day of archery season. I’ve waited for this, and I’m thrilled it came two weeks earlier than usual.
The weather is misty and muggy, and it feels like a sauna inside the blind. I’m struggling to keep the fog off my glasses, and the whine of little mosquito wings fills my ears.
I’m wearing a long-sleeved camouflage T-shirt. My hands are bare, and I’m wearing shorts, along with tennis shoes and ankle socks. The skeeters really like the ankle area, and occasionally I feel the sting of one that has found bare skin. That’s an awkward spot to reach, and I try not to slap hard to avoid making noise.
Killing mosquitoes is all about timing. Strike at one that just landed, and it stands a good chance of eluding a light swat. If it’s been there awhile and settled in for a feast, it won’t react in time. Ideally, you’ll kill it before it’s drawn blood. I consider it an affront to smack one and spill my own blood. And what is it about swatting mosquitoes that attracts even more?
I’m not crazy about this weather. If it were about 30 degrees cooler, it would be the kind of day I’d like to skulk through a thicket like this with a quick-handling lever-action rifle. No scope. Open sights are best for finding deer slipping through the pines or bedded down in a briar and honeysuckle den.
That would also be a good day for spiriting through a young thicket and jumping them in thick cover with a semiautomatic 12-gauge loaded with 00 buckshot. You have to be sharp for that kind of hunting. You can’t afford to make a mistake and shoot a sub-legal buck, and sometimes you have to let them go without a shot.
Still, that’s a pure form of hunting, stalking them where you know they should be, and it’s no small feat to creep to within a few yards of the wariest creature in the forest before spooking it. Well, maybe the second-wariest creature in the forest. Top prize goes to the wild turkey.
A light, misty rain dampens the pine-needle bed of the forest floor and allows you to move silently. With a slight breeze in your face, you can sometimes creep right up on deer because they’ll be looking for trouble in the other direction.
I used to hunt a place in mid-Missouri called Lamine River Conservation Area. Big woodpiles littered reclaimed fields and meadows, and deer actually get in the piles and scan upwind for trouble. You can’t use shotguns in Missouri, so I’d stalk them in the woodpiles with a long-barrel Ruger GP-100 .357 magnum. If the wind was right, I could actually step right to the pile and kick a deer out like a rabbit. It was the most fun deer hunting I’ve ever had.
Blind hunting is passive, but the preparation is arduous. The blind has been here for three seasons, so deer are accustomed to it. I’ve cut away all the low limbs and brush in front of the blind to give me a clear shot of 40 yards in a 75-degree arc. I’ve left brush and shrubbery on both sides so that it doesn’t look obtrusive to deer approaching from behind. About 25 yards in front of the blind is a big bare patch of dirt where I’ve been putting supplements from In Sights nutrition. Every two weeks I put down a liquid base, and then cover it with a powder. Deer love it, and when they exhaust it, they eat the dirt. About 10 yards beyond the bare patch is a hole where I put a sugar block. Even in a narrow hole where the top of the block is below ground surface, deer eat it all in about 10 days. I freshened the site when I arrived, and it makes the damp air smell very sweet.
I expect deer to come to it any minute, but the minutes pass with no deer in sight. Occasionally a gust shakes water from the tree branches overhead and it pours on the roof of the blind with a roar. Still, the ground inside is dry, and I always check for snakes before entering.
It’s getting dark, too dark to see. The woods are quiet except for the rustle of the wind. It’s time to go.
The next time I come here will be magic. I’m sure of it.
Sports, Pages 23 on 09/20/2012